Her Perspective, a poem
Image from Canva.com
Stillness.
Silence.
Labored breath.
Cold hands.
Tears well up and my heart slows its beating pulse, its flavor of love.
I exhale and think about our years. Together we laughed and together we sang.
He was my bass to each word’s meaning, the one by my side.
The world keeps turning, and I sit still.
The world keeps talking, and I sing about the moon.
My darling husband of long ago, is listening, or so I hope,
to the sound of my voice, the whisper of our secrets.
The supportive hand of music fills the unclenched air,
and we breathe one moment a song of yesterday.
“Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they’re here to stay.
Oh, I believe in yesterday.”
“Two drifters, off to see the world, there’s such a lot of world to see.”
“Blue moon, you saw me standing alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own.”
My love. My life. My heart. His wife.
I accept your breath.
I delight in our memories.
60 years beautiful, together and free.
Image from Canva.com
This is an artistic interpretation of a music therapy session from the perspective of a wife losing her husband to metastasized cancer. The music held space and time, the music made memories, the music provided expression, and the music was a catalyst of closure.
