I Am Said I (Huruma)

A hoarse groan  Echoes in the cave That you have become Death has been mining Digging out the rich Mineral of your life Haunting your emptiness Breaking our closeness Apart Not knowing what Your eyes are trying To say Their pleading And the fear That you want me To leave before it’s time We no longer know How to be With each other A tautness has entered To replace the ease Learned of lifelong Intimacy Parting is approaching And we are not able For it

I went faithfully Among bare trees When life was cold And hope obscure And grief like frost embittered In my taut and tightened heart Dried out Cowhide Stretched Kneeling beside her grave With my backside in the air To kiss the damp and grey Brown earth instead of her And aching to touch And aching for some kind Softening warmth To Spring And it Sprang, so it did For a while And it will Spring again

August 10, 2008 It seems that every day now is like pushing an elephant up a stairs . I awake each morning to begin hauling myself up all over again. What was achieved yesterday seems to be of no use for today. I am somehow disconnected from life and fiercely connected to loss. It’s like a massive hangover, without having had the pleasure. “You have veiled the Godhead in a cloud, in the clay of our humanity” (St. Catherine Of Sienna) The Lord veiled His divinity in the clay of Mam’s humanity, most especially in the ending of her time on earth - the final ten days. The Office Of Readings today has the lovely reading from Hosea 11 and I have experienced the tenderness of that love. The night before she died Mam drew me down to her, holding me to her cheek. I had asked her if she knew who I was and she opened her eyes, smiled and said, “you are Eamonn Monson, my lovely son”. She drifted into sleep still holding me, and in her I believe, I know, that God was holding m...

August 10, 2008 It seems that every day now is like pushing an elephant up a stairs . I awake each morning to begin hauling myself up all over again. What was achieved yesterday seems to be of no use for today. I am somehow disconnected from life and fiercely connected to loss. It’s like a massive hangover, without having had the pleasure. “You have veiled the Godhead in a cloud, in the clay of our humanity” (St. Catherine Of Sienna) The Lord veiled His divinity in the clay of Mam’s humanity, most especially in the ending of her time on earth - the final ten days. The Office Of Readings today has the lovely reading from Hosea 11 and I have experienced the tenderness of that love. The night before she died Mam drew me down to her, holding me to her cheek. I had asked her if she knew who I was and she opened her eyes, smiled and said, “you are Eamonn Monson, my lovely son”. She drifted into sleep still holding me, and in her I believe, I know, that God was hold...