Intimate Resurrection
I rise from your grave looking for you
seven weeks after your passing
seven weeks after you were plucked
from your cold repose
swaddled in linen and longing
pressed tenderly to my cleft breast
carried slowly through the doors
of your life one last time
and tucked into the bed prepared
knowing I will find you someday
I rise and look for you
in the bright glow of clear radiance
suffusing the sunny creek
and in the merry shallows
for your traipse and splash
or are you along the trail
we threshed through thickets
where we navigated the fireflies
down to the open lagoon
with its teeming hospitality
and nonchalant prescience
onto our relic pontoon dock
over which time calls timeout
sitting on the bleached creviced planks
with their rounded edges and rusted nail heads
the breath of dusk carrying last warmth
I am confident tomorrow will be the day
our love will be renewed and am content for now
with surprisingly brazen clues of your whereabouts
and shy indelible tracings of your happy exuberance
when from around the bend of cypress trunks
low to the water and in purposeful arc
glides our great blue heron friend
seeking evening sanctuary of privacy
who wavers not and eases by just before us
wing tipping slightly in our direction
in generous gesture of trust and familiarity
and with a mild chuckled squawk
lands gently nearby
knowing I will find you someday
I rise and look for you
not knowing it would be today
and so intimate and thrilling
and hoping it’s not too soon
Larry Piltz / The Rag Blog
Indian Cove
Austin, Texas
February 23, 2009
The Rag Blog / Posted February 27, 2009
Here’s to Mir & all true friends who’ve gone on before us but continue to nourish us in memory & through little miracles some mistake for coincidence.
What a lovely face, and lovely poem, too, Larry — made me shed a tear — there is no heaven without our dogs!
What a beautiful tribute to Mir and to your relationship with her. I’m sure Mir would love hearing you read it to her…