Meditation in White (Lilies)
Clouds pass my high window quickly, abandoning the blue.
Indefinite mass, indeterminate, impersonal
as only intimates may know.
Though you lay there, nothing remained in the bed.
Which is the blank page’s gift, the monotone
or a suggestion of mist and stripped bones.
The nurse marked the passage with pen on paper.
Renewal, departure. A rising.
I accept the ash of suffering
as I accept our destination, the morning
and its offerings, with you in synthesis,
complete and empty, shaded in contrast,
wilting, as another opens. Laughter eases the way.
***
This was first published in Shadowtrain, and made its first appearance here in March 2016.
O at the Edges 
I waited several years for a lily left from my mother’s passing to flower again. Perhaps it was the passing of troubling times that brought its return.
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I love lilies. They’re strong symbols. And they smell good.
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You have me after the title thinking m + edelweiss
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Hmm. I can’t think of edelweiss without thinking of The Sound of Music, which takes me to a very different place. 🙂
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Ettal Abby for some Benedictine weissbeir? (Bitburger-international.com)
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I’m in!
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Meditation + ‘white’ 😜( Poured, it glistens, oh the glory! From a private well – a spring mountain clear is what the label sells – so maybe some weekend soon – you snap a cap or pop a top BOOM! Beer that is, ghetto gold, Rocky Mountain pee… robbing the Beverly hillbillies tv theme lyric)
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Beautifully haunting Robert, you made me cry with this one……
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Thank you, Ivor. The greatest compliment.
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I agree, beautifully haunting.
I love your word choices, and the construction.
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Thank you, Vanessa.
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My pleasure!
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Your words evoked memories from my own, all too common, experience of my mother’s passing.
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Thanks very much. That was the genesis of this piece – my mother’s passage.
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The subtlety of this piece seems to grab the heart deeply, almost deceptively.
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I’m pleased you found it so. Thank you.
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Most welcome!
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Lillies — a unique experience. I do believe they grieve. One was given to my daughter, she left and left the plant with me. I cared for it, but it never flowered again. Then, I went to stay with her in preparation for moving there. A friend went by weekly to water it and talk to it a bit. She kept telling me it was laying over – as if dying – but green, green. When I went back to get my things and transport them to our new home, it was laying over – very green. I went about packing the remaining items. Singing occasionally. Then around midnight, I walked into the entryway, and it was standing straight up. Beautiful. The next spring, it flowered. I do believe they grieve. It never laid over again.
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Plants are so interesting. You might enjoy reading “The Hidden Life of Trees,” a fascinating book on trees and their relationships with each other.
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