For longest time, serenity was my space filled by just a presence; serenity was the presence that filled my space; it was space filled by the presence of serenity.
Serenity is now a memory of that space filled. Memories of serenity fill my space. My space is now memories of serenity….
We were each other’s serenity. In each other we were serene. Serenity was being with each other.
Now it is my memory that provides me the serenity of knowing he is still there in the space of my heart once whole.
All text and images © Dale Schierbeck
See more of others’ submissions to the Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge on “Serenity.”
I apologize about not getting the whole poem’s name in there when I commented earlier, “Serenity’s Memory”. I just wanted to say one last thing. You are an amazing writer/poet/lyricist. The talent/gift you posses is incredible. I would love to be that blessed. Being able to express and put your emotions into a word form, that is not only beautiful, but heartwarming and felt is…. There are no words for what you do and share.
A simple thank you just does not seem like enough.
Oh, Elizabeth, thank you most sincerely for the kindness and gift of your thanks and words. I started this blog two years ago to share and with exactly that hope, that my words would resonate with at least one person, that one person would take something special from whatever it was I could craft and share. I am blessed that they have resonated with anyone and I feel truly humbled that they have moved so many more.
Truly, the only thanks I crave is that my words are read … and impact a few.
Thank you, Elizabeth.
Your poem “Serenity” is quite good. It took me a second to wrap my brain around it, but I believe I took away from it what you were expressing. I know it will not happen for me overnight. It probably will take me a very long time, before I will be able to put things into a perspective that your poem drives home. That is to me at least. Maybe I am misinterpreting the poem.
The emotions are raw and painful. They eat at me. There is nothing I would not give or do to have him back, here with me, right now, just to give him one last kiss or to feel his little wet nose on my cheek.
I did not realize humans could have emotions this deeply about anything. I did not feel this empty when my father past away. My father had end stage renal disease, and I cared for him until he had to be hospitalized to have his leg amputated.
I feel no serenity, peace, happiness, or joy. I am like a zombie. Just going through the motions.
The bond I shared with Elvis, just cannot be duplicated with his son. I love Oscar, but we never clicked liked Elvis and I did. I think Elvis was my one and only, and there will never be another. I hope that is not true. I just cannot imagine it ever at this moment.
Thank you for sharing your writings and yourself with those of us who don’t know you.
Hi Elizabeth — I’m very sorry to hear that you’ve lost your Elvis. Even without knowing you, I can truly empathize and sympathize with what you must be going through. It gets ‘easier’ but the loss may well remain quite palpable for a long long time. I hope you have a network of support around you as you go through this. I’m glad that you have taken ‘something’ from the words I wrote, both some meaning and perhaps hope of a better tomorrow.
On the subject of Elvis and your surprise at your feelings for him and his loss, that was much the force of Ben in my life … and that is the gift. As so many better writers than I have expressed it, the magnitude of our grief reflects both the magnitude of the love that preceded it … which means that it is often the price of having a special and deep relationship. Those relationships, no matter with man or beast, are special because of those feelings which we don’t feel at every other relationship and loss. So yes, he may be your “one and only” as you say. I heard at a pet loss support meeting I went to that not our relationships with all our pets (or people by extension) are the same: that sometimes we have a special bond and connection with one which she called our “forever.” Sounds like Elvis was your forever dog: he will forever be exceptionally special in your life, even when passed. Not everyone gets a “forever” relationship. Be thankful. I am.