A poem inspired by my mum Judy Keys and dedicated to my Godmother Rita Coolidge.
I wrote Sky on December 18th 2013. I just talked to my father for his birthday. I had hoped for a more loving conversation. The one person in the planet I could talk to about my father was no longer on the planet.
Uncertain, nervous and distraught. I found myself racing through the valley in what was once my mother’s mustang. I was stopped by a traffic light when I was forced to look up at the sky. In what felt like an overwhelming moment of loneliness, my vision was suddenly engulfed by colors of transcending blues.
I hope you enjoy it.
Written December 18th 2013
SKY
The fickle blue sky seems larger today with its pillowing white.
The sky seems larger today with its fickle blue,
Transcending from dark to light.
It seems larger today, all dressed up in its soft blanket of white. I see the majestic pillowing as it dances and skips through the sky.
I see you, my fickle blue, transcending from deep dark to powder light.
The sky seems larger today as I stare up, peering through.
I’m trying to get a glimpse, maybe I’ll see her, maybe she’s there.
If it’s true.
The sky seems larger today with so many different blues.
It’s a little overwhelming to me.
Maybe,
If I reach my arms up as high as I might.
I’ll struggle and stretch, I’ll never give up.
I’ll keep reaching, higher and higher.
Perhaps I’ll feel a tug.
Why can’t I see her? Where did she go?
This fickle blue sky with its selfish curtain of white.
It’s making it so hard. I can’t see her. It’s too bright.
This is NOT fair, NO, this is not right!
Is she up there, can see me?
If I took a plane, flew over the mountains, beyond the light and far above the blue.
Would she be waiting? Could that be true?
If only I could see her, make sure she’s alright.
Let her know what had happened and why
I had to travel beyond the light.
I would hold her and hug her, I would talk of my flight.
I would tell her all that has happened and all that might.
I would never want to leave her.
But she would say no and we would
fight……
I would beg and plead,
“Please don’t make me go.”
But in my heart I would know.
She would win, I would lose.
She would say,
“Don’t be sad, I’m always with you,
please don’t miss your flight.”
With my head hung low, I would acknowledge of course.
Of course, she is right.
She would lift my long face up with both her hands and say,
“I love you my darling, it really is okay.”
I would pretend to smile and slowly get back on my flight.
At least I would have seen her, said goodbye, kissed her goodnight.
Then I would be okay
and everything would be all right.
That would be all I would need.
I could heal with just that one night.
I would be fine to travel back.
Through the deep blue.
Far away beyond the light.
Eventually landing beneath the blanket of white.
I see you,
my fickle blue,
transcending from deep dark to powder light.
You seem,
Smaller to me today.
You can’t fool me, all dressed up in your soft elegant blanket of pillowing white.
I’ll keep watching.
I’ll be fine.
I’ll wait patiently.
Until,
my flight time…
Inspired by my mum Judy and dedicated to my Godmother Rita.
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