We loved so well
with a depth I treasure to this day,
yet I don’t regret
that age might erase my memories,
or fear that all vestiges of it
will be stripped away when we cease to breathe,
since throughout eternity,
the waves we made will reverberate.
You see,
we are no less than butterflies
whose wings barely disturb the air,
no more than Kingfishers dipping their beaks,
causing ripples that indiscernibly adjust
the course of the stream,
yet together with Dinosaurs and Frankenstein’s sheep,
together with all sentient beings that swim fly and creep,
together with all creatures that have ever been,
together everything current and ceased
beneath the sky that leads to infinity,
though we be tiny, finite,
our energy echoes forever.
We loved so well
with a love which will kiss the earth
*(as it gently recovers our vacated flesh.
Flowers will bloom, worms will flourish)
and the earth will listen to the wind
singing our story
throughout eternity.
*I’m not sure whether I should keep these two lines, since they might detract from the romantic mood of the poem. Hence the faded writing. Opinions please?
©Jane Paterson Basil
Making it write 
Hi Jane.. I think I like those two lines, they give a certain finality to your wonderfully romantic poem.
LikeLiked by 3 people
I agree, Ivor. They seem to fit into the theme of having and loosing love as we go through our lifecycle. There could possible by gentler words that describe what happens to our body after death – but I’m not disturbed by the ones you used, Jane.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks Pat, we both seem to agree, the words are very valid.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Pat. All the comments so far have been pretty positive, so I’m happy to leave the poem as it stands.
LikeLike
Thank you for your feedback, Ivor. I’m pleased that you don’t consider them too grisly.
LikeLike
I think they’re perfect
LikeLiked by 1 person
They look fine where they are.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for your feedback. I’m glad the lines work for you.
LikeLike
My pleasure 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
They carryon the repetition of ‘cease to breathe ‘ and ‘together everything current and ceased so I think they are valuable lines.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! That’s exactly why I wanted to keep them.
LikeLike
What a suggestive, thought-provoking poem. And based on the math of Chaos Theory, if I’m not mistaken. That doubles down on its deliciousness.
About those two lines. I especially liked the second one. But I’m weird that way. I have a taste for juxtaposing stuff like “blooms and thorns”, “day and night”, “good and evil”, “Paul and Jane”, etc.
LikeLiked by 3 people
You mentioning odd juxtapositions reminds me of a crazy thing that I wrote a few years ago. Maybe you’ll enjoy it.
https://janebasilblog.wordpress.com/2015/04/06/promises/
It’s fiction. Honest.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I’m as close to being wowed into speechless awe as an old country boy like me ever has come, Jane.
“Promises” just pushes the envelop of poetic achievement in every which way I can think of.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Paul. I think it’s the best thing I have ever written.
LikeLike
Jane, I agree with all of the above. There is an earthiness to it, a touching on the recycling of energy, of transformation and nourishing. And worms feasting 🤣
LikeLike
Jane, do you know Elizabeth? https://talesofdarkness.home.blog/
I’ve linked her to your blog on the grounds she strikes me as likely to be a serial axe murderer, and thus quite possibly already a friend of yours.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve told you before, Paul, don’t interrupt me when I’m cleaning the blood off my scythe.
I’ll forgive you this time, since it would appear that Elizabeth and I have a lot in common.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Jane, Paul invited me to view your blog after reading my poetry. He said we “rhymers” have to stick together. LOL. I love the poem you wrote and agree with your readers about keeping the two lines. Your poetry is elegant and lyrical. I’ll be following along 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Elizabeth. Thank you for the feedback, and your generous comment. Paul gave me a link to your blog, too. I tried to message him back, but my WP site is playing up. It does that sometimes. I feel so discouraged, so I’m logging off for the night, but I’ll get over to your blog tomorrow.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks Jane. I hope WP behaves for you tomorrow 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Always so beautiful, Jane and so moving.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Lynn. I want to apologise for not visiting your site recently. I write reams of poetry which I don’t post. As soon as I stop writing I feel the need to do number puzzles to numb my mind. Every day I think tomorrow will be different.
LikeLiked by 2 people
No apology necessary, ever. Something very calming about Sudoku and Suguru puzzles – a kind of mindfulness in the numbers. Take care Jane
LikeLiked by 2 people
Save them to use elsewhere. I think they may in fact prove the seed of a whole poem. This one has no need of them. (IMHO)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m pleased to finally get a comment that disagrees with the majority. I worry that readers sometimes go along with what I’ve written just to be nice to me. I really appreciate constructive criticism.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Constructive criticism? You want constructive criticism? I got plenty of constructive criticism. For one thing, Jane, when was the last time you tried to write a truly engaging, a truly moving poem, such as a poem featuring a male hero doing bare-handed battle with Soviet era tanks in order to save Capitalism and our sacred way of life? That’s to say, when have you even once desired to do your part to preserve the social order? Just a little bit of constructive criticism for those with the stalwart brains to listen.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The people’s flag is deepest red,
It shrouded oft our martyred dead,
And ere their limbs grew stiff and cold,
Their hearts’ blood dyed its ev’ry fold.
Then raise the scarlet standard high.
Within its shade we’ll live and die,
Though cowards flinch and traitors sneer,
We’ll keep the red flag flying here.
LikeLiked by 1 person
OMG!!!! Kipling didn’t do any better! I am once again in awe of your skills and wit.
Be still, my throbbing hard on! Be still!
LikeLike
Must say, though, would have worked out better if you’d managed a few stains of blue blood along with some spaces left unstained — the old red, white, and blue, you see. *sniffles* I tear up just thinking about the valiant old colors shared by our two great nations.
LikeLike