FELIPE'S TEARS

[Sue Littleton]

Felipe Gottheil, my talented musician grandson,
died unexpectedly September 25, 2010, age 18, of pulmonory edema.
His death was in his DNA. We never knew.


He lies there, so pale,
a gentle smile on his lips,
eyes closed as if asleep,
His body is covered to the chin
in huge lace ruffles
and in the corner the lustrous top of the coffin,
waiting.

The stricken faces of his two younger brothers,
the tears of Mariana, his mother,
as she leans over her eldest son, her hand caressing
his face, his hair.
Her voice whispers loving words in those ears,
now unhearing forever.

The moment has arrived for us to leave for the cemetery.
His mother covers Felipe’s face
with her own, murmuring softly,
pressing her cheek to his,
until she realizes she must withdraw.

I go to look at him one last time,
at this grandson so special, so intelligent, so creative,
gifted in music, in art.
Two tears shine under his eye
and it is as if Felipe is mourning with us, for our sorrow
at losing him,
crying with the tears lent him
by his grieving mother.

[joel]

Sue--

I don't know the words,
and so I groan and hope and share the only language I know:

We know not what we should pray for as we ought:
but the Spirit maketh intercession for us with groanings that cannot be uttered.

Peace/la Paz

[justwalt]

my words...
(in his mother's tears)


our holding on to the moments of life
that flow like water into the sea,
pulls us closer to that reckoning
where our death reveals its affinity-

time wears away in quiet persistance,
with constant change, and without delay,
upon that wave we sail the faint horizon
ever aware of that conditional guaranty-

with indiscriminating preciseness
this tidal ebb stalks our every tragedy,
into the depths and breadths it surges,
'...will one day too, subdue eternity-

our tears rise up the celestial storm
and adrift, we collide into life's debris,
caught searching through the mists of mind
we land hard upon the illusion of reality-

tomorrow's faith is suddenly displaced,
stranded, on the shores of yesterday,
its essence is soaked in our disbelief
that every new sunrise is a dawn of destiny-

each uncharted realm holds its treasure true,
not that any mortal being can ever claim it free,
but a richness found beyond mere value or worth
awaits for those who can reach this sanctuary-

a mother's love is more than we can bear
nothing compares to define these energies,
though our love is owed to the univesre,
and her call that begs all, to explore infinity-

walt

[Sue Littleton]

Thank you for your words of comfort, Joel. And thank you, Wait, for that beautiful poem. I only wish Felipe's mother could read English, I would share it with her. Sue