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JoeC's original poetry and photos about life and all things under the sun.

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Thursday, March 17, 2016


When Cheryl-Ann Was Six

I remember that sad mountain place,
Up and up, we trudged, away away,
I still remember your smiling face,
It was hot, so hot on that tragic summer day.

Unfortunate August, so very very long ago,
Camped in those tall mountains, awe struck,
Up and up, that steep trail, water rushed so,
Those days, when life seemed full of luck.

Others hiking down, canyon walls echoed sounds,
Mountain air filled our heads with capricious wonder,
August splendour, wafted delicate o'er mossy mounds,
Up and up, we trekked that thin line, pulling us asunder.

I recollect, reminded by that rugged mountain gorge,
Clear as day, vivid as starry night, I see our craggy footing,
On the 14th entertained, sculpted by a Ranger's evening forge,
Up and up, ascending Heaven's way, to stay to stay rooting.

Hot August night, we slept snug, secure in our forest camp,
On the 15th we woke happy, ready for another August day,
Black bear wandered silent by, padding o'er morns grassy damp,
Up and up, acclivity, rising towards that ancient gloomy way.

Ascension, to that precipice, water rushed, where Heaven found us,
Declivity, where our lives plummeted, took such a turn, down and down,
All we hoped for, suddenly lost, o'er that awesome edge with such a fuss,
Down and down, doom washed you o'er that falls t'wards Heaven's Crown.

Down and down, with a deafening roar, down and down,
Glacial water gripped your tiny body, slipped you away from us forever,
We didn't get to kiss or wave goodbye, down and down, you fell down,
That glacial 15th day in August, summer day filled with doom, bane of ever.

Down we fell together, reaching down, to solid bottom, death knew it,
What had we done to slip like that? Why did ruin tear us down and down?
Cold grabbed our throats, stopped our hearts, halted life as we knew it,
Why did summer down and down that day? Must children drown and drown?

I remember your face, as you fell, ripped from our lives by grief,
Washed o'er that sudden ledge, gashed by that cataract, forever lost,
Terror etched your face, horror blanched our minds, there's been no relief,
So much pain, so much loss, so much down and down, such a terrible cost.

Torrents washed you over slick stone, wounded rock, down and down,
Down and down, o'er that waterfall edge, 80 feet down and down,
Down to nether, enveloped by apathetic spray, down to spatial earth,
Underneath that liquid realm, broken o'er hard rock, void of mirth.

Somewhere at deep bottom, submerged in that gelid mountain pool,
You dove, sinking to depths far beyond us, drowned by your ascension,
Mother could not save you, Angels did not rescue or change that fatal rule,
Somewhere, down and down you plunged, into death's dimension.

Down and down we crept, waiting for providence to take us by the hand,
Rushing up and up, Rangers hurried with their rope and grappling hooks,
Tears spilled down and down while searchers grappled off that pool's sand,
God approached, finding us, down on our knees, pasted in our terrified looks.

Down and down we slept, wishing tomorrow was yesterday, that 15th August day,
Somehow wisdom left us crying, washed naked by that downward drain,
Down and down we washed, splashed by all that fateful doom, a lingering way,
Some reason, your death summoned lasting grief, beyond our heartfelt pain.

August 16th dawned bright and clear, morning birds sang, but we didn't hear,
We'd slept and dreamed in our mountain camp, that one final August night,
Dawn woke weeping, wond'ring what fate delivered, a dream, or horrid raging bear?
August finally turned to September's numbing brown, stealing away our family light.

Down and down, into the deepest chasm, down and down we fell,
Down and down, o'er so many Augusts, down and down, rescinding glory,
Down and down, losing you, we all drowned, mourning as you fell,
Down and down, down and down, drowned by death's lethal story.

Tears never fixed us, grief never left us, your death always washed over us,
Seldom don't we think of you, remember Chery-Ann, so many Augusts done,
In time perhaps we'll meet once more, through Heaven's door, love caressing us,
Perhaps we'll meet again, when life rounds a final bend and August tears are gone.

3 comments:

Olwen's sister said...

Oh Richard...........what did this cost your soul to write?.........<3
Precious pain.

JoeC said...

I suppose this poem is part of the ongoing process. Grief is a strange character. I don't think any of that tragic experience will ever be mended. We are scarred and wounded by that day in August, 1958. Still, as time passes, as dreams are remembered and dreamt, again and again, as we remember Cheryl there is that one thing that makes it something beyond just regret, beyond just grief. I suppose that one thing is love. We love Cheryl, she loved us. Even though she was taken from us, so long ago, even though she didn't get the chance to live a long and full life, there was love over all. But that is life isn't it. We never know when it will end, or how long we will have in this earthly realm. Death will come to visit all of us someday. Tragedy on the other hand may not be part of the equation for us all. For some of us, some families, yes, tragedy will mark us, wound us, scar us for ever and many of us will never be completely healed by tragic events in our lives. Hopefully, there will be love for us all, and that alone may be the difference between dying and living while we are still alive.

Anonymous said...

Your words so eloquently speak the pain of your loss so keenly felt after all these years. Your words are a beautiful memorial and testament to one so young, and one so loved.