I love words. . .
I love reading them
I love writing them
I love listening to them
I love transcending them. . .
This poem from
seems to illu8strate each of these things. . .
A good Monday morning blog. . . ?
Wait. . What. . . ?
Were you expecting the usual Monday Morning Video Blog post. . . ?
I have never offered you a chance
JUST TO LISTEN
. . .to maybe close your eyes
and just listen to
some nicely arranged words
that paint only colors you can see
on the blank canvas of your mind
. . . close your eyes
make your own video
as you hear Phyllis Cole-Dai’s poem
that came to her in a dream right before the pandemic hit. . .
As you hear words
v i s i o n
that this might include
that has is dying
but never been lost from you. . .
May her very words
that massages the forehead
of your grieving
as it intertwines its fingers in between yours
as they never let go
but now feels so very empty just the same. . .
May it put a beat in your heart
that’s not only everlasting
but ever present
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. . .
q u i e t
see with your ears
(Phyllis’s original thought was to release the book on Memorial Day last year, but the pandemic accelerated her plans. She made the book available solely through her website, so that she could sign every copy that was ordered, and give people the opportunity to request a personalized inscription if they so wished.
When she lost her own father recently to COVID-19, Phyllis would receive, among the many messages and gestures of condolence, solidarity and care, a copy of her own poem — coming to her once again, she notes, “from the outside– as it did in my dream.”
In her words, “You may choose to share it during a memorial service or other farewell gathering. Save it as a keepsake, attaching photographs, jotting down memories and reflections. Offer it as a gift of compassion. However you choose to use it, may it bring you consolation.”)