A string of warm walnut tears hang off a branch
In a stream of light,
like prayer beads
The blood drops of coral.
The forest path
Where everything begins and ends.
Next to me
a gathering of trees,
Adorning their branches.
of fallen trees
And the song of a displaced bird.
The burrs no longer stick to the edges of clothes ,
As I walk ahead to a clearing
Where sun has taken the place of the shelter and shadow of trees.
The necklace fades into the hush of new leaves
– a shucking of skin
Like a butterfly
– leaving something behind.
By J. Hamilton
It feels so strange to think
That the lost time I saw you,
My son was on the brink of 2.
And 2 years later,
My daughter came into the world.
I had no doubt that she had already met you
And that the last place she slept
Before coming into this world
Was in your arms,
In your world.
Today the trees are in bloom,
The leaves of the maple
Are young still
And hang on trees
Like sleepy butterflies in their glossy purple skin.
Everything seems to have awaken.
The pink azaleas seem giddy as their silky petals gently sway in the warm wind.
Ella is packing her soft leather ballet shoes
In her black tote,
Pinning her golden hair into a ballerina bun.
Ross is on his way home,
With the sun shining in his sky blue eyes.
His hair is still the same colour as it was
When you last saw him.
And his lashes
White and long
Like drops of sunlight.
Today is your birthday.
Today as I think of your grandchildren
And catch a glimpse of a Robin briefly landing
On the pale green leaves
Of the red limbed dogwood
I remember your birthday. By j. Hamilton
I am finding solace in the soft white blanket that once lay neatly folded
At the foot of your bed.
The pale pink Roses seem to float against smooth fabric.
I lay next to you once, my head on your shoulder,
This blanket warm against our skin.
I felt so safe there
In that space beside you
Listening to your breath,
As it quietly reassured me
You were still here.
Now as I feel it wrapped around me
I wish it was,your arms
Your voice wishing me
Instead of the darkness drawing me into its vast empty
Where night lives. By J. Hamilton
My mind replays the moments before your death
And I imagine you separating from the silk membranes of your pupa
And moving effortlessly
Beyond the confines of a cocoon that could no longer keep you safe
And here you were
Free at last
No longer broken
Moving toward a new sun I couldn’t see
But through my tears
I could somehow feel.
By j. Hamilton
Listening to the tin of rain on rooftop
It sounds as if rain is tumbling into copper pots,
A kind of music.
I thought of you again today
And missed the bed I once crawled into to be next to you.
What I would give to smell your soft talc
To feel you smooth my hair.
And to fall asleep next to you
With my legs close to my chest,
The same position I adopted inside you
Before I was born.
I felt so safe in that cocoon
Of fresh sheets and warm blankets,
Listening to your quiet breath draw me to the peaceful darkness of sleep.
I remember the rain falling on your window,
And how wonderful its music seemed in the haven of your room. There
Fears seemed to dissolve into their own darkness,
And pain became something that was almost absolute
Because you seemed to somehow turn it into something different
It was as if that pain
Turned into a butterfly
And drifted into the sky.
By J. Hamilton
In a cafe
With my daughter
I watched how ribbons of light
Seemed to fall around her,
A warm and an exuberant embrace.
She closed her eyes and smiled and I
Can you feel her too? Her warm embrace
In golden strands of sunshine .
Kissing your hair
As the glow of light flickers across your face.
It is the anniversary of my mother’s passing
And in these sweet moments
Her near you
Touching your hair in long, soft strokes.
The light is her parting gift
On this cool March day.
-by J. Hamilton