Death teaches us meaning
of the word sudden —
one minute there, one minute
not —
the blackness, the blankness,
the emptiness, the silence, the void —
the most palpable, oppressing nothing
there ever was.
—Terri Guillemets
I long to be close to
where your beating heart
was among its last beats.
I sit on the couch where
we spent your last night —
but cannot bring myself
to be on the cushion where
life was fading from you
and you laid against me.
I didn’t sleep, for vigilance
you didn’t sleep, for pain —
so tired, so dazed, so lucid,
so knowing, so loved, —
so gone.
—Terri Guillemets
leaves dancing
in a brisk breeze
on an almost-bare tree
joyous at autumn’s wake
they tremble, ready
to be free, to sleep
with past seasons —
dying, they celebrate
the awakening of winter
—Terri Guillemets
the leaves all dance
to the same breeze —
but some flutter and some fall
some shiver and some sway —
and when a gust comes
they lose themselves —
but are no less beautiful
on the ground, where resting
they still yet dance, but free
—Terri Guillemets
We’ve lost, we’re losing,
it’s so much loss, too much.
But the clouds are rolling
and the breeze is blowing
and nature is so beautiful
and the dried delicate leaves
are doing their dance of balance
between hanging on and falling away
amidst their wintry shiverings —
they love the wind
for helping them let go —
they fall to the ground
and the gentle rain comes
and helps them nourish the earth.
A gray bird lands on a bare gray branch
both unadorned, yet so, so beautiful.
And the leaves are drifting
and our lives are drifting
and loss is just another form of beauty.
—Terri Guillemets
a viral magic act —
making all disappear
except essentials
and our souls are tore down
emotions tested
communities spread thin
but never so together —
fear and negative mindsets
purpose and positive actions
our generosity unmasked
inspiration is contagious
we live, we die;
we survive, but barely —
it’s been so long
we are getting sick of this, but
it’s gotten us closer to ourselves
even as we distance from others
some have perspective
others have only anger
a year of stern warning from
mother nature that many won’t heed
suffering, separation, and need —
a year of gratitude and pain
a year of disorder, loss and gain —
yes, many gifts too — science, love
veiled blessings, principle, priorities
months were lost but not the lessons
we have homework: wrest the energy
to begin our rock-bottom rebuilding
—Terri Guillemets
Spring and summer come with a lush layer of foliage over reality, but when things start falling away in the autumn and get bare and stark in the winter we’re forced to look at things more as they really are, including ourselves.
—Terri Guillemets
some see treasure in everything,
while others die believing
everyone else struck gold but
never finding any for themselves —
how sad for those lost, bitter beings
who were ever blind of heart
—Terri Guillemets
Black eyes and broken bones
Rainbows and sugared donuts
Overthinking and over-loving
Have gotten me to this point
And still, I’ve never yet made
A five-year plan — and even if
I did, nothing ever goes to plan
Anyway.
—Terri Guillemets
Earth tilts toward Winter
my heart goes tilty too
the summer-fever cools
to a more reflective hue
—Terri Guillemets
Our bodies were meant
for the sun, the rain,
the gusty winds,
starlight and moon baths,
fresh air and seasons —
so why do we trap ourselves
in indoor cages?
If we can’t hear the
birds chirp, feel the breezes:
how are we to be refreshed,
to heal, to know the world
beyond the borders
of our bodies?
—Terri Guillemets
Now that I’m over the hill
I can see it’s just made of
skeletons of dead monsters
that were never really there.
But that past is no less high
and no less there, and I am
no less on the other side of it.
—Terri Guillemets
this time of year, October-blood
runs through the veins of autumn —
a slowing heartbeat, longer breaths
shorter days, golden light, scarlet leaves
warm hearts and sanguine thoughts
—Terri Guillemets