My Grandfather's Last Dream
My Grandfather’s last dream
In a deep sea of white, heavy thunder waxes and wanes
Until a peaceful respite blinks
What will it bring? Will the rains come?
With their piercing showers, will we drown in shadowy pools?
Too afraid to leave, too afraid to breathe
Or will the floods carry us into the lands beyond?
But no, not the rain
What will it bring? Will the sandstorms come?
With their rusted edgings, will we be blinded in our sight?
To stumble and fall, to lose sight of it all
Or will the earth build a path into the lands beyond?
But no, not the sands
What will it bring? Will the winds come?
With their mournful gales, will our hearts hollow out?
Today may be clear, but tomorrow I fear
Or will the winds wisp us into the lands beyond?
But no, I cannot speak, of the light he dreamt this week
And although I can’t convey, what thoughts ran through his brow that day,
There is but one thing I can protest, and try my might to say it best
Never had I seen him smile, with such a pure-bright sunny style
And in his eyes I took to heart
The fire, still burning, set a spark
(2013)
I dedicated this poem to my deceased grandfather, Vernon Pearson. My grandfather was a generous, caring man who was never short on love. I wrote this poem after visiting my grandfather in the hospital a few days before his death on a day that he was cheerful and energetic enough to sing songs and tell stories to us. It was placed on the back of the funeral leaflets but I still regret choosing not to read the poem aloud at the occasion.
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