as the morning light approaches the sky,
she breathes softly next to me.
the birds awaken and greet the dawn...
she rolls into my side, hiding her head under my shoulder,
remaining locked in Morpheus' arms.
I lie quietly, listening to the cadence of her breathing
remembering the moments of her life
since she first entered mine.
I first wrote that on April 22, 2011. My first tentative foray into poetry (which I have definitely not mastered) brought a kind comment from Thom Brown, and gave me the courage to keep writing poetry, mostly in the form of haiku.
I don't think Thom realized the impact he had on me. We belonged to a diverse blogging group, people from around the world brought together by our love of sharing the written word. Thom and I also shared a love of photography, and even though he wrote about his neglected left arm quite openly, he never let it prevent him from doing most anything he wanted to, such as photography. He asked my opinion about cameras one time when he was looking at purchasing a model that would produce higher definition images, and I gave him what little knowledge I had on the subject, flattered that he had asked an amateur like me anything at all about camera specs.
I enjoyed Thom's blog in the almost 3 years I knew him. He was a prolific writer, with a variety of topics on his blog, as well as lovely photographs of his tree, made into a wonderful video from the almost daily photos he took from his office, in every season. You can see this tree in all its glory, through several phases, by clicking here. It captured my artist's heart when I discovered it while visiting Thom's blog after his lovely comment on that fateful April day in 2011. He often made me smile with his posts, or shed a tear or few. He had that way with words. They stuck in my mind, and lodged in my heart. His pride in and love for his grandson was another thing we had in common. I loved every post, every word and picture about the Mighty Finn, because I have felt those same emotions and lived similar moments with my own grandchildren.
Thom died at his home on February 9, 2014, surrounded by his loved ones. I don't think I told him often enough how much his friendship, and those lovely comments he often made, meant to me on a personal level. But somehow, I think he knows.
I invite you to visit his blog To Gyre and Gambol, and soak up his wit and wisdom. Thom finished many blog posts with the words "I am a fortunate man".
I am the fortunate one. Thank you Thom.
(I'll miss those Sunday jokes.)
...life, often bittersweet, is still good. ~cath
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