Broom Zen
This morning I’m spending time with my sheltie, Echo, who is departing this world today. Here is another poem of saying goodbye, inspired by a dear friend at Heathcote:
Charles’ mother is dying.
He has planed
800 miles.
Now he sweeps
Her kitchen.
Back home this is his
After-dinner chore.
He sweeps the hall,
2 seconds per stroke
By the mantle clock.
“Get the stairs while
You’re at it,”
His father says.
He sweeps the living room
And the porch.
He sweeps the lawn.
His mother is awake.
She asks of his plans.
He talks of job changes.
She takes out 3 papers
And crunches numbers
On the first.
Charles makes
Clarifying calculations
On the second.
She rests.
And Charles waltzes the broom.
He spreads out the pages–
Her handwriting, his;
The choreography of cursive.
And one more…
He takes the unused page,
With a pause for
All symphonies in the ether,
Unwritten,
And drags his dustpile
Onto the page
With his mother’s broom.
–Wren Tuatha
I’m sorry to hear that Echo is passing today. Much love toyour and the rest of your furry tribe during the transition.
dear wren
dave and i send our love to you and echo, we are glad we got to meet you and two members your furry tribe (as your friend sarah puts it). I find comfort in this quote as I still (after 10 years) mourn the death of some of my goats: “All love is sweet. Given or returned.” Percy Blythe Shelley. I would add, No love is ever wasted, it gets recycled. Still, we miss so much that particular “incarnation” of love.
hope to see you back in murray valley. peace, nan
Thanks so much. We also loved our adventures with both of you in Murray Valley. That was Echo’s last big trip. I’m sure we’ll pass through Murray Valley soon. I love it there so!