Missing

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MISSING

I leave behind the usual clutter
Of unfinished business,
Regrets, and roads not taken in life

I also leave my heart poured out on paper
Undiscovered glimpses of my life
To be enjoyed by any who find them good

Or perhaps to be ridiculed,
As being too soft and light for the modern world

Whatever the fate of my work,
It seems petty, in the face of the poetry
Of my true and final resting place

I say now to those who might care for me
“Do not look for me in the harsh lights of the city
Nor in the cool foothills of the mountains
I have gone home to stay”

It may be that some foolish person
Will disregard this premonition

They will no doubt decide
To make the following inscription
In all mortal records

“D.C.B., poet
Missing,
Presumed Dead”

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To all those it may apply to

Thank you, DC, this got me wondering about those I used to converse with or read their stories; did I not care enough to wonder where they might have gone? There are many I wonder about even now, some I have not seen around, but still are in my mind and heart: Kaleigh? Admiral? Time has gone by and they have drifted on life's streams, briefly touching others like leaves in the streams of life. Some of us have drifted together in the protected pool that is the stone bulwark of BCTS, while others drift free into the stream of life that we all must succumb to someday; for some, sooner rather than later...
Hugs Dorothy and thank you,
Diana

Dorothy Colleen

ALISON

' don't you dare go missing.The world needs more feeling people like you.Your warm and uplifting verse
is so beautiful. My love to you, dear one.Alison

ALISON

Missing

Is a most wonderful poem of triumph.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Zen?

laika's picture

We must have a different definition of triumph, or I am seriously misreading this poem. But to me it seems to be to be about the triumph of alienation and fatalism, to the point of slipping all ties to life in the world. While beautifully and eloquently stated, its talk of going home and final resting places scares me...

~~~hugs, dear Dorothy; Laika

.
What borders on stupidity?
Canada and Mexico.
.

Dorothy Colleen

I tried to give you a kudo but the respose was "error incurred". I am not one to comment often but I have frequently enjoyed your writing & compassion for others contained in it.

Dorothy, your poem is beautiful - I must hope & trust that it was written in memory of a dear old friend of yours. If it is of a more personal nature, it makes me so sad that you would consider your life to be so difficult. No matter what obstacles are placed before us, we all have it in ourselves to overcome these adversities.

Life's journey is not about arriving at the station but about the journey itself. No matter how long it takes - no matter how many wrong trains we take on our journey, eventually we will find the right train and board with hearts full of hope and mind full of fear. Is this finally the right train? We often times question over & over if this is finally the right train - we have taken so many wrong ones in the past - how can we be sure that this is the right one. We may realize that we finally got it right in short order or it might take a long time to see what we have been searching for & decide to get off at the best station & stay a while before we continue on our journey but continue we must.

I don't know how far you are along in that great adventure that is your life but it took me many wrong trains & bad decisions over most of my life before I picked a much better train than all the others I had tried. Changing trains so late in life cost me many of the things that I held dear but after 5 years of hopping off of the former I have never been better off, despite all the obstacles in my path, on this different train.

Do not despair as there is always another train in your current station - we just have to recognize that it is time to change trains again. It might take a long, long time - it took me 68 years to find the right one - there is always time left to celebrate the joy of finding the right train.

If you do not have a copy, you might find & read the DESIDERATA - it has brought me peace & strength when there did not seem to be either in my life.

If you wish me to send you a coy of the DESIDERATA, leave a note for me in your blog or as a reply to this comment & I will find a way to post it or email it to you.

Ruth

May the sun always shine on your parade.

Emotions pulling me in two directions

Andrea Lena's picture

...the absolute beauty of your poetry and the ugly, almost unbearable pain it portrays. I struggle with your work often, for I am left with a dilemma; do I praise and encourage the artist, or do I set aside the art to comfort and attempt to help the poet beneath buried beneath the words. Some of your work...much of it...is hopeful and bright; this is neither. Please do not go missing, dear heart. Much love!



Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena