Creating connections through the arts and across cultures


In this section: 9 poems, 1 Essay, 2 photos

Like a bridge up to Heaven, perhaps.
The sunset is like that, too.
Angels climb onto the sunset, trees, and skies.
These are the gates of Heaven.

A week after a good person dies
then a rainbow happens.

The rest rise up on a sunset.
The special angels like Grammy Julia
Go up to Heaven on a rainbow.
It's a bridge. An archway to Heaven.
The best people earn an Express Trip to Heaven.

The rainbow takes you quickly
and gloriously up to Heaven.
Especially if it's a double rainbow.

When I was small, when I was four,
Daddy said, "Stop the car! See?"
We looked smack together on a double rainbow.
You're more likely to see all the colors then.

It's a glorious sight to see a double rainbow.
Pouring full strength in the country.
Looking at the glory of it.
Heaven is a place where each angel
finds the place where they used to be.

It makes me sad,
but it helps in the long term.
The more I talk about her,
I'm crying less.
It might have seemed long to see the rainbow,
but only a few minutes had passed.

After the rain and talking up here,
everything seems cleaner, fresher, prettier.
From this height, especially, on this porch.
Did you know it is really a third story
if you count the basement?

We danced to the music of Rush for Gold.
I think Grammy Julia would have enjoyed it.


For Amelia Grace

She's looking for solace.
She's only eight.
It makes no sense.
It hurts to lose the one you love.
Any country song could tell you that.

Solace comes in a recipe for a poultice.
It's a wizard of a solution
Guaranteed to heal open wounds, scrapes, and so forth.
(Scrapes, scratches, and scabs).
Does losing your Grammy
come under open wounds, scrapes, or so forth?
Maybe all three.

Here's how to do it.
Take half a bud of Star of Bethlehem,
two violet greens
(either medium or big)
and a star petal.

It makes sense when you think of the Wisemen
following that star of wonder, royal beauty, bright.
The violets shield her world
from ever being violated again.
Let's hope.

Mush up your Bethlehem Star bud and petal.
Wrap a violet green around the bud mush.
Rub the fresh ointment into the open wound
until it's rubbed raw.
Place violet leaves over it to hold in the ointment.

Break the greens from wild onions.
Mix them up and eat right away.
Then you sing this song:
"Medicine of herbs and medicine of flowers.
Heal me strong and share your power."

Be patient.
Healing the wound
may take more than hour.

We lost something treasured,
held by a thread.
We lost something unknowable,
a balloon shining red.

Red wore her well.
Burnished her light.
Light loved her,
but no halo in sight.

History holds her.
Been here and done that.
Death claimed her.
Sealed the good ness, and yet-

We lost something treasured.
A balloon shining red
floats high in the sky.
Wafts over our heads.

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3 Responses »

  1. Poultice had yet more words of wisdom as I navigate this unfamiliar underworld. I'm grateful for this intimate interaction with your poetry.

  2. Ahhh, the rainbow! They seemed abundant after my dear Sapphire, a black dog with one blue eye and one brown, died. I didn't know other people linked them with their lost loved ones. Janet, you've become a poet! What a treat to dip into your world.

  3. Thanks, Priscilla. Yes, the rainbows are transcendent messengers of spirit, aren't they?

    Janet Riehl

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