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I Am with You
You are with me, this day, and I’m with you;
in spirit and in memory we meet
to celebrate and joyfully to rue
my span, which in the bounds of Time was fleet.
Although I’m gone from places I was known,
I will remain an ever-present trace,
reminding friends and family we’ve sown
our presence on a changing earthly face.
For ‘change’ is what my passing signifies,
a moving on, beyond this poignant pause.
The flow of life continues, while the ties
of love compel forgiveness for our flaws.
The thread is cut, and yet I’m still alive;
in hearts and minds of those held dear, I thrive.
.
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Paul A. Freeman is the author of Rumours of Ophir, a crime novel which was taught in Zimbabwean high schools and has been translated into German. In addition to having two novels, a children’s book and an 18,000-word narrative poem (Robin Hood and Friar Tuck: Zombie Killers!) commercially published, Paul is the author of hundreds of published short stories, poems and articles.
Very nice sentiments and rhymes that compose a poignant package in a precious sonnet.
A touching poem that anyone can relate to. I love the phrase: “to rue
my span, which in the bounds of Time was fleet”.
The argument embodied and embedded in this poem is somewhat difficult to discern. Perhaps you simply lost your way in the tangle of form-fulfilling phrases. God knows, I’ve done that myself on many occasions. But at least you are still alive, and still with us. What would we do without our house liberal to vent on?
That’s rather pathetic, even for you, Kipper.
But for you, Pauly, it would be a new high!
Yes, they never leave us, Mr. Freeman. Although the grief from their physical absence stays, it is through their marks left in our lives and our remembrance of them that we keep them alive. It’s a heart-touching poem where the language and rhymes are natural and mild-toned, making this poem a refuge for those needing it. Thank you for this gift.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Shamik. When my mother passed last year, I recited a poem based on my favourite photograph of her and promised on a thread of funeral poems to add to that list. This is my offering.
Paul, the image of each life being a “poignant pause” is one that I will carry with me. It is a marvelous phrase that implies there is more to come! And that this life is but small taste of what is to be!
Jim
Thanks for reading and for your comment, James. Unlike when my father died, which was over a protracted period that lasted years, my mother departed rather quickly and at times it feels like she’s still here, alive. The poem reflects this idea / feeling, I hope.
Paul, when I saw “I Am With You” as the title of a funeral poem, I thought the speaker would be a mourner (as usual). You’ve done the less usual thing of having the deceased speak, which in itself makes the point of the poem (that the deceased lives on). The language is simple and clear, as one would naturally expect from a dead person who now lacks worldly distractions. The ONLY slight difficulty I would see for a reader is determining the direct object of “we’ve sown.” The poetic line might seem to suggest “friends and family” as what we’ve sown–but that’s the sense for a poetic reader familiar with inversions. It is most natural in English for the object to follow the verb, as “our presence” does here. The reader may be a bit taken aback to find that the deceased speaks more simply than he does himself! Overall, the thought is a common one, but the expression is rare and spare. I must admire it in relation to a third-person poem I’ve just written myself about a bereavement, with numerous images that pay tribute to the deceased in a manner quite florid compared to this lovely simplicity of yours.
Thank you for reading and for replying in such detail, Margaret. I’ll take on board your suggestions and return to the poem after a suitable amount of time has elapsed and I can look more objectively at it. As always, your reply is an education.
Sorry to be unclear, Paul. I meant that the only difficulty in your wording is one easily solved as the reader moves to the next line, and therefore no change is needed. But thanks for misunderstanding–it gives me a chance to add how much I like “the ties of love compel forgiveness for our flaws.” This is comforting to the hearer/reader who learns he is forgiven by the deceased. It may not always be true, but again it is logical to think that many, as they approach death, naturally come to the knowledge that it is useless to hold grudges thereafter.
Thanks for getting back to me and clarifying, Margaret. I’m glad you liked the line “the ties of love compel forgiveness for our flaws”.
I wasn’t too sure of that line because, yes, there are grudges that continue beyond the grave. However, on balance we are forgiving creatures when it comes to ‘the final exit’, usually realising the pettiness of whatever falling out we had, if at all we can remember.
I find this to be quite the emotive poem, Paul, with a beautifully flowing couplet to finish and summarise. It reminds me of a quote: “When does a man die? When he is dead? No! A man dies when people forget him.”
Let’s hope poetry like this isn’t long forgotten, like how it is in the modern day.
What a wonderful quotation, Drilon.
‘I am with you’ is already on a few parishes list of funeral poems, which is a nice feeling, so hopefully it will be around for a while and hopefully helping folk through a difficult time in their lives.
Just these few words require greater thought when one is aging and perhaps unwell. Although, the content is fully understood and absorbed.
With my best wishes.
This is my first submission