When the World Stops They Listen

 

For my grandpa David. R.I.P I love you papa and I miss you.

 

To his breath stampede
of skeleton pennies,
blowing out earth’s detail –
its ocean plea resuscitation
its pulse hyperventilating like Buddha,
inquietude resounds.

The dream self concatenated
a haven planet
surrounded by phantom birds.
An abrupt sob: ‘Where are we going’?

To his breath
the world stopped.
And the choir rain
anthems a warning.
They listen
as the oracle fret.

Mama…I love you.
The winged lips poetry –
said the dusk ocarina dove,
floriferous heart
balloon notation Zen.

To his breath
of minutes slipping,
mankind repented.
Tide fangs closing in
and the air itself waved goodbye.

 

 

*Note: It’s been 1 month since my grandpa’s passing. It’s been hard and painful. I think about him a lot and I miss him. I know he’s in a better place with all our loved ones. This poem was very difficult for me to write.

 

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