Covid Dreams of The Dearly Beloved. The letter left behind.

 

Press play before you read.

It adds such an edge.

Some say sad poems make the best reading.

What says you?

Whispers as I retire.

Salute.

-----------------

Take me in

From the grey ashes

Blowing like an early breeze

Within the deep cold recesses of your many

Hidden red rooms

In your fast-flowing mind

Lullaby

My once well-loved name 

As you quietly 

Sit still and try to breathe

Take me in

Eagerly

Lovingly

Once again

With your arms wide open and keep me real

Close

For

Even though 

I still silently

Sleep

Deep 

But carefully hidden from watchful or inquisitive eyes 

Maybe all around

Don't be so scared

As I'm forever going 

To be with you

For I'm now reborn to be eternal

Not one of the

Lonely 

Internally 

Bleeding dark emotions

Just walking around

Dreaming of 

Living but soon to be dead

Lost and wandering all

Alone

But

Within those crimson

Fires of distant memories

Like the legendary

Phoenix

Of Amu Mansu

I will be reborn and

I will rise

Forever

Don’t cry

And burn in strangers or friend's 

Undertows 

And always

Feel their projected pain

But instead, look within treasured memories and old photographs

To rebirth me 

Again and again

So take in these last words

In this

My final hidden love letter

I leave within my will

Now I'm too ill

As my final angelic 

Evocations

Before I forever surrender

To heaven 

Dreaming and murmuring about your beautiful green eyes

And long shimmering 

hair and spiritually

Captivating charms

For I'm 

Now but a soon-to-be gloriously illuminated 

Being

Still living

Without fear of 

Any earthbound

Limitations

Deep and forever tumbling

In a wild kaleidoscope 

Of broken shattered mirrors

But still always living eternally 

I hope

Deep inside of you

For to replace me

In time with another

Would just be a pale and cheap imitation 

And

When I see God and he asks me why I'm still smiling

As we stand together when I seek forgiveness for all my mortal and physical sins

I'll just say 

I'm simply thinking about that fascinating young lady

Who once held her

Golden violin lovingly upright

Under a great old oak tree

In good old Long Island 

And who lovingly played a beautiful poetic tune 

Upon it 

Just for little old me

Copyright John Duffy 

I hope you enjoyed the whispers.

Until the next time.

Salute.