Did you . . .

i saw you the other day
perhaps it was a dream

either way . . .

you appeared before me

and i

cried

again

There is a sacredness in tears.
They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.
They are the messengers of overwhelming grief,
Of deep contrition,
A
nd of unspeakable love.

since you happen to be here . . .

i want you to imagine a woman
vulnerable at a declining age
married once for long
familiar thus with intercourse
yet still a virgin
when you had entered her essence

for
she
let
only
you
make love
to her soul
to the core

should you ever doubt it
send your reason to her address . . .
living proofs do not lie

you had made her believe all along
you too were a virgin with her alone

that is how untouched she was

her once ascending spirit
in a downward-spiral now
races to self-destruction
this late in her remaining time

you have after all never taught her
how she could thicken her skin like yours
before you abandoned her fragility
abruptly harshly ungently
to its debilitating agony

did you recognize her . . .

does she visit your nightmares . . .

i saw you the other day
perhaps it was a dream

either way . . .

you appeared before me

and i

cried

again

© hülya n. yılmaz, 5.27.2016

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The italicized text originates from Washington Irving.

6 Comments

Filed under Weekend Reflections

6 responses to “Did you . . .

  1. Did you… the title of your ever so revealing poem, that cannot take comment as it says all there is to say. Save as I said in my prior response, send you a feeble distraction dealing with tears.

    A different kind of shadow, but a shadow nonetheless, dear friend!

    “ Tears ”

    ~ of a dolorous soul ~

    More of a tale, May leave you sorry

    For it be on a scale

    Of sentient passage,

    That can but come

    Of tears gone savage,

    In a dolorous soul,

    Where once did find

    Abundance of cheer,

    Worn thin with time …

    ‘Tis a story of old

    As awareness grows,

    To reach out bold

    From wearying pain,

    Appears ever to last

    So begs an exchange,

    To instantly grasp

    Pleasure that reigns,

    Tho impact will pass

    Its perception may not,

    For memory but lends

    You’ll accept its attend,

    That fate brings in the end!

    a reflection

    © Jean-Jacques Fournier

    Jean-Jacques

    Like

    • I wonder if you can sense what a comfort your words are to me, dear Jean-Jacques. Because with your comments you validate my choice and courage to write as the authentic I am moved to put into various syllabic sets…In gratitude for your presence.

      Like

  2. I am unable to respond on this level of pain, save to send you something I wrote on the subject of tears a few years ago.

    À bientôt… soon,

    Jean-Jacques

    Like

    • Dear friend, will you please forgive me? I have read your poem, “Tears” with utmost appreciation for your sharing it with me as a response to my tears. I know I will read it again and again and again. Thank you for your generosity in gifting me with your time, thoughts and poetic self. Bir dahaki sefere…

      Like

  3. this poem saddens me . . . very so . . i get it . . . well expressed, very

    Like

    • i have written it in great sadness but not deliberating on how the words were taking shape…they just flooded…my special thanks to you, dear one, for your read…i know you are not particularly fond of sad writings…thank you from the heart

      Like

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