Nothing matters but the rain
beating glory from balloons
driving our clothes heavy
in sheaths against our cemetery sides.
We came to heal,
we came to mourn,
all in all we came newborn
to the possibilities your deaths open.
Later, saunas will welt it out of us
until we’re left with all we’ve got
a collection of pebbles
and livestock bones
enough for some
strange for others.
Brenda Warren 2014
Thank you Tess, and The Mag, for ekphrastic inspiration.
I just went to a funeral, and this fits so well–grief, healing, hope, and sweating (or crying) out the excess of emotion. Well done.
This is simply delicious…my fave this week…
“the rain beating glory from balloons”
Great use of language.
Hey Brenda this is very powerful and beautiful , a true liminal zone , thanks for it …
We came to heal..we came to mourn..filled with some sadness but, hope in newborn
I like how Finnish the poem feels with just enough cultural references and a nice connection to the photo.
… all in all we came newborn… Fits very nicely, I think! Great write!
Bit of a doom laden opening to make us sit up and take notice…