SOMETIMES

Sadness is the sister of Joy.

Sisters hold each other’s hands 

all through the night until morning.

My chin has been resting on my paws as I consider this. 

Sometimes, bad, sad things happen. 

Sometimes it takes a little time for my ears to perk up

to the melody of the plain clear sound 

of the White-throated sparrow 

or see the deep red flower 

hidden at the base of wild ginger. 

Friends lead me over soft paths strewn with yummy, fresh mulch. 

My heart thumps and my tail wags. 

Really good friends let me stray off the path, 

sniffing living things and bark I remember 

from trees born before I was.

Every second, someone’s outside light goes out. 

Some of their spirits I have known. Some I have not.

They glitter inside me when I dream. 

Sometimes I chase them.

I wish them all a beautiful flight into the heavens 

until I catch up, barking and leaping as I go. 

Especially noted today are sister Alex, Sally, Bob, and Daisy.

Advice from Oliver: We’re all family.

9 thoughts on “SOMETIMES

  1. Dear Oliver: I remember a year ago when a very sad thing happened and our dear sister-friend went flying into another world where we cannot see her anymore. But we still hear her in the trees and in the sounds of music and especially when we are by the lake. We knew she would fly away with part of our heart but sometimes part of our heart gets stolen without warning, and that is when I call on Emily for her wisdom:

    “Hope” is the thing with feathers –
    That perches in the soul –
    And sings the tune without the words –
    And never stops – at all –

    And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
    And sore must be the storm –
    That could abash the little Bird
    That kept so many warm –

    I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
    And on the strangest Sea –
    Yet – never – in Extremity,
    It asked a crumb – of me.

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  2. My dear friend,
    You know my hand is near all night and everyday. My heart is open to you and will always be. Now is the time for you to grieve. Hold your thoughts close. Smile and treasure the ones that recall laughter. No one, or their memory is ever gone as long as we love and remember them; they live on within us.

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