Poetry

(after Robert Ranke Graves)
 
Sheer grief did drive him almost off his mind
and suddenly some strange things he can see
and odd things that no other man can find
becomes clear, but this is not sympathy
 
and he can see tiny flowers growing,
their buds opening petal by small petal
every bird’s wing in motion fluttering
rocks glimmering with their inner metal
 
and amplified sound comes to his ear,
the wind rushing along in the distance
the chirping of some small finches in fear
and though almost godlike the hindrance
 
between him and his beloved dear wife
he cannot pass, enter that place alive.
 
[Reference: Lost love by Robert Ranke Graves.]