Funeral Poem

[miyako73]

I'm mourning and it seems my muse is also doing the same. I can't think and write. Please help me with this funeral poem.


Ode To A Night Traveler

Should I say to them that you are gone
To join among the comets, the tiny stars
Or to kiss the sad face of the melon moon
Or to get lost into the gloom of the sky?

Your rubber slippers, their soles still thick,
Are resting on the mat below the stairs,
Waiting to be washed, to be worn again
When the mud becomes afternoon dust.

Should I say to them that you are gone
To be with the waves of the restless sea
Or to bathe in the shimmer of the sun
Or to feel the stirred soul of the morning?

Your half-open closet exposing the robe,
blue like someone’s eyes, idle on the hanger,
The folded beach towel in the loose drawer
Still has the scent of flowers and detergent.

Should I say to them that you are gone
To go with the crescendo of your song
Or to fly with the high notes of the violin
Or to dream of harps, halos, and wings?

The abandoned calendar of empty dates,
The framed photograph of your sepia smile,
The table lamp of cobwebs and a dead bulb
Convince me of the eternity of your absence.