Beautiful, Beautiful Mourning

It’s the quiet, pink, slowly slipping away

Of another closer-to-autumn day

Or the wanting of you on that noon in July

When we parted but never said good-bye

Instead, letting our tears wash away tenderly

Those lovely things

That never again will be

It’s like the indistinguishable, precious lasts

Recognized only long after they are past

Like the last time you climbed into my lap

Where I rocked you to sleep for your afternoon nap

It’s in the recognition that dreams do come true

Even if they are

A different shade of blue

It’s the longing that grips us because we’ve held and cried

Bearing the beauty of laughter’s flip-side

It’s the darkness, as it seeps from its endless unknown

To cover creek-banks and warm cobblestone

It’s a coursing within us; an intangible flow

The beautiful, beautiful mourning

Of loving and
 Letting go

© Janet Martin