This poem was written for my brother’s daughter Simone. My brother Todd passed away on December 4, 1994, but for some reason he was on my mind tonight. I just came inside and still have my coat on. One of those tired restless nights but all will be well. The dead know nothing of time, they revisit when they wish.
BIG HUG!!!!
Utterly beautiful. What a lovely soul 😔x
Thank you!
i just saw this today , i was so sad when i read this "The dead know nothing of time , they revisit when they wish ". because Mr Sakamoto passed away on Mar 28 and i loved his music and everything of him so much . just stay health , Patti , thank you
Your comforting words seem to always find me when I need them the most. Each loss can be a gift, the fare of loving. Thank you, Patti. ❤️
So bright to fold light ✨️ 💛 My brother was a shooting star 🌠 and the other still speaks in my dreams.
Always the lil light in our hearts.
Your voice brought loving tears. Thank you. 🫂✨️💎
How beautiful and serene. Your brother left a very moving message.
Everything I would like to say has been said by others here. I am so grateful. ❤️
“The dead know nothing of time.” My dead people visit me at will, sometimes when I’m wide awake, sometimes when I’m dead asleep. My arms are open to them. Your poem gives me great comfort, Patti, and I thank you for reading it.
Your comforting voice!
Thank you very much, Patti
we need your lyrics every day
to feed our minds and our hearts.
aside from the loss which is felt here your poem (and it called back for a few readings) reminded for this heart of the reason? intent? some of my most cherished "prose" writers who were known for that "form" (ok Jim Harrison for instance...) always said they preferred writing poetry and here i see and feel that......the imagination and emotions are unconfined and in the (w)rite ...ha.... hands fingers....words flap in the wind aprons (agents?) of hmmmmmm greater gods (purpose)
Thank you so much! And yes, they revisit when they whish ... I lost my brother in 2005, he was 49. And he still appearing in my dreams or in my mind, of course ...
We are often taken by surprise when the ones we loved appear in our hearts and minds. It’s a gift, a special remembrance of times lived and though it may make us sad it’s also uplifting to feel and remember such special people. It was lovely to hear you read this poem for Todd’s daughter. Thank you Patti 🙏
They revisit when they wish. Indeed. I will have regrets as that day looms ahead.
from what we cannot touch, stars are made.
thank you.
Brothers are a blessing indeed, Patti!
Thank you, Patti! Always in our hearts
Dearest Patti, Todd often told me how much he loved you and how you lifted his spirits... Your perfection was there for him and me and so many others. Thank you for reading your poem to his daughter... You cleared the sky for me. With love.
I listened to this last night, and was so moved I could not reply. I’m no less moved today, but wanted to say so, and thank you, Patti, for your reading and for writing this beautiful poem.
The poem has a Blakean quality in its simplicity, and the way that words take on double meanings through repetitions and puns.
I think the most poignant line comes almost right in the middle, literally at the heart of the poem: “He is here little heart.” In the next stanza, after the surprising “blackness/ so bright as to fold/ light,” the word reappears (as if for emphasis) as its own sentence: “Here.”
The last stanza is a lyric of opposites: the way something so momentous to us takes it’s place in the universe befitting its proportion to things:
A bit of sail without moral, turning
like an apron upon a cloud.
He is the gust (powerful to his daughter) that lifts a bit of sail (not the whole sky, not even the whole sail, just a bit) but he lifts it for his daughter to press her cheek, wipe her tears -- here we have the supernatural power of love and remembrance. And again, the repetition (just as in “here”) “a bit of sail,” and then the surprising “without moral,” without judgment, preaching nothing but meaning everything, “turning/ like an apron upon a cloud.” The homeliness of an apron, and an apron applied to a man, which makes him more tender, more a parent tending to his child.
The immobile stag is transmogrified into the “hart” that is “here” between “hymn and hymn.”
The poem is riddled with doublings, the hard truth of dying and the miracle of being risen, the fallen stag becoming a “blessing disguised/ within the pages of a book.”
First the book has to be put down so the little girl can mourn her fallen father. Of her tears, she is told to “let them fall, let them fall.” In the end, the fallen stag, her hart, will press that little bit of sail to wipe her tears. As we were told at the beginning, the immobile stag has become a blessing disguised between the pages of a book (of hymns/him; heart/hart) HERE.
I hope these musings are clear. Thank you, Patti, and to all who have responded with so much feeling.
As ever,
Robin
I thought of Blake too…🌹
🌻❤️
Tears. A spontaneous comfort! 🙏🏽
Dad passed three moons ago at 94 yrs, fed him his last nectar, as he did my first, with airplane humming and zig-zags. Archiving endless scraps of paper, his commentary on Everything, from news clippings to artful compositions. Tell-tale Heart still beating.
Auguries of Innocence 💚 indeed...his fantasy gravestone reads “Dragons last Forever, not so little boys”
"Now you seek him in columns of words" Thank you for sharing this poem, a reminder that we don't move on from our grief but rather move forward with it inside us. Some days we are tired and restless but we continue on, still buoyant on the memory of our beloveds. Sending you strength, with gratitude, w
Thank you, beautiful and warm words.
I dreamt last night about a boy i met in school. Never thought of him in 40 years, i wonder how he is doing.
Sometimes it hapens, just in the night or in dreams.
Thank you for this, Patti -- so needed these words today-- much love to you.
What a very moving coincidence! This morning I talked about my father’s passing at age 51 in September 1983, and how he visited me in a dream a little while later. I was in college.
I don’t know why I thought of him today, but this poem I can take as comfort. Thank you, Patti. ♥️
Yes, agitated spring energy...kronos snares kairos then it goes the other way! Steady with fresh gnocchi, radicchio, good OO, garlic cloves roasted & skin on. Pine nuts, parsley, squeeze lemon to finish. Thank you, dear Queen, for sharing Todd's visitation and the beautiful words. - ss
Beautiful
You’re so gentle,it’s such a pleasure to follow you…💐
Powerful ❤️
so beautiful
thank you for honoring your mourning when it washes over you. you are a steady presence, reminding us that we are not alone in our joys, our sorrows, our every-day-ness.
"A blackness so bright as to fold light". Astonishing!
Beautiful!
What a beautiful poem to comfort and inspire your niece throughout her life. 🙂
And of course his mist is always there, pressed between the light. Beautifully evoked.
Right. Eshleman before he died could not claim any higher birthright than to be a mast or out of breast envy that kind of mast. Same time he complained that standing upright was a Prussian endeavor. I look at Rodin and believe today the reason it took 30 years for him to do his hell gate was doubting the gesture of hugging that we do. All his figures are hugging themselves, but we can abstract what we need and have the quicker apprehension that we "intense" Am Are, I Can's are over packaged products without a squeeze. And wild is the wind. I still crash parties at almost 50 to dream of that granny knot of arms and a little lean-to.
Heartfelt for me having 5 daughters when it was our story
Incredibly meanful hearing the poem
Beautiful—your words express the spirit of someone carried with us, despite (or perhaps because of) the grief of monumental loss.
Thanks for this heartfelt poem, Patti, so tender and full of the mystery of life and death. It feels like a love song in sorrow, but is encouraging. It captures silence and loss and is so gentle.
Thanks, Patti…it’s 5:30 am here, and I’ve been awake since 4. Thinking of a new, younger friend recently met, and three friends that have died in the last 7 years. Two were my age, one was too young. I imagined a conversation with the new young friend. Then I just had to get up and open up the iPad. You were waiting for me with this poem…🦋🪴..maybe I still have many years…here a quote from BLADERUNNER: ( the final line of the script, about the life expectancy of the replicant Harrison Ford’s character has fallen in love with, re: how long she has left to function: “Who knows?”
The dead visited me tonight also. My late Mother and I told "it's à long time since I saw you". Sweet présence...
...a blackness so bright as to fold light..
what an image that invokes, thank u Patti.🖤🩷
Thank you for this generous moment with you and your brother.
Thank you for reading that beautiful poem.
Much love Patti
Thank you for this beautiful poem ....
Restless night and early morning. Storms reign over the land, the mind, the heart. Thank you for sharing your love and beauty with us, this exquisite poem, to calm and rejuvenate us. We love you and are grateful.
Thank you, Patti.
Sending love. 🎈
Way back in the 80’s there was this “flu” not quite defined by the Reagan administration. Aids. Cause I worked hard in clubs and as a dj it came with the territory that nearly all of my male friends, roommates and my brother died. Yet, many of the strong women and musicians held up so many in despair back then, so many who held me up when loss was inevitable and constant.
My brother Steven passed on a small dingy boat that floated up and down from Ptown to the bridge, sunrise to sunset, till he lost his breath.
Such a beautiful poem ! Patti you have touched us all ! 🥀
Thank you,Patti,for sharing your family with us
First musings of your mother and now this exquisite poem by your brother.
It's a restless night, yes.
Hope you've finally are resting.
Love you and Cairo.
Becuse the night, belongs to lovers, because the night, belongs to love :)
Gassho. 🙏 Thank you.
patti forever!
Visited my dead today. Cleared the old winter decorations and placed spring/ Easter decorations at the grave site. Had to clear snow and ice. Think of them often. Wish I could write a beautiful poem. You are kind to share this poem and remind us to listen for our dead. Their messages so important
Loved this
❤️❤️❤️
I too, was visited by the dead just the other day. So strong.
Mountains of love to you. Thank you for this beautiful poem.
'What is the heart but a small hand of agonies?'
Oh, that it is.
stunning
So moving. My heart is so open. The dead revisit when they wish, and sometimes we invite them to visit. They live in our hearts.
Reaches deep into the underbelly of my own emotional light night of the Soul whenever my own late Father visits my dream state armoire. Wouldn’t surprise me if he comes before dawn tonight… thank you.
🌹
Patti, I don't know where or how or why your line "turning like an apron upon a cloud" moves me so, but it does. Bravo, Patti! Love your stark simplicity, in gratitude....
Isn't it the truth? "The dead know nothing of time.."
My dearest friend also died on December 4th 1975.
I’ve never felt the same way about another human as I did for him.
Rather than make me sad, I feel so blessed that I felt that way, not everyone gets to experience that.
I’m so sorry for your loss.
Thank you Robin
When the wind blows, I go outside.
I say, “come on everyone, group hug!”
Then one by one they come, some so gently, some try to blow me over, some smell so sweet and some if I’m lucky make me cry. Wind is magic, you can’t see it but you know it’s there, just like them.
I hope you are feeling better
Always hopeful
Jayne
How lovely, Jayne. Thank you for telling me.
Warmly,
Robin
Thank you for this treasured moment, Patti - much love....
patti is modern art always :)
Thank you for sharing this, Patti. i lost my brother in 2006, when he was 47, two years younger than i. this is a gentle poem, read with reverence by his sister, all these years later, to those of us who are mentally with you tonight. Sleep with tender dreams, Patti. The world will wait for you to wake. xx
I’m sorry for your loss.
lovely words nina Xx
thank you x
The losses we incur are like scars that just cover up, the pain lying beneath.. We never forget, we scar over and over as in our lives we seek to cover the pain with loving sheath.
Well when the wind whispers, will you hear those who are near
Such a sweet poem from your heart to hers. Soaring the Universe of Light dear Todd!
Very beautiful and so moving.
Thank you for the reading, Patti. Get some rest.
amen suze x
I met Todd at your parents home when I was 17. I had traveled from Nashville to NYC to try and make it but I was young, alone and quickly broke. The city wasted no time in chewing me up and spitting me out. After many months on the street, I ended up going to Beverly (my guardian angel) and in the very short time I was there, Todd was so nice and friendly. I was so taken back by how handsome he was and I was so shy, I'm sure that when I spoke to him it came out like stuttered mindless ramblings, but he seemed to understand. It was like he knew what I thought and let me know it was okay to feel that way. He made an indelible impression that changed me and left me feeling, for the first time, like I was of value to the world. Your brother was a true gentle man and I was so lucky to have had the chance, however brief, to experience his extraordinary kindness.
a bit of sail...so true
thank you
Thank you for the reading, Patti. Wishing you a good and peaceful night.
i just played your recitation of your poem for my mom with Alzheimer’s. Her husband, my dad, passed a little over a week ago. She listened intently and told me she enjoyed the sound of it. i think it was the cadence of the reading and the words that took me deep into the celestial realm. Thanks!
I’m sorry for your loss.
Thank you
Love to you Patti
A beautiful reading Patti, thank you. It would have brought much comfort to Simone too.
A moving poem. Thank you. Take good care of yourself.
The auguries somehow not so innocent, yet pure.
I feel your pain. Thanks for sharing the poem with us.
I very much enjoyed reading your poem. thank you
You are sad. I am so sorry. Lovely reading of a beautiful poem. Xxx
😥❣️
“Revisit when they wish” ❤️
Hugs and kisses, Patti. What a treat on my way to slumber.
I love when you read to us
☁️💛☁️
So much magic in this poem. 'Your father has rushed forth/in a column of mist.' '...a blackness/so bright as to fold/light.' Breath-taking. One of the many great poems in Augeries. Thank you for spending some of your tired, restless night by sharing this work, by sharing your emotion. And then adding that extraordinary last line of text... 'The dead know nothing of time...' I hope, as the night passes, you find some rest and some peace.
What an exquisite poem--wrenching and restorative, both.
Thank you. Such a wonderful quiet time with you on a restless weepy night.
Just Beautiful 🕊️
“let them fall, let them fall”
Solid reading - thanks for sharing this! ❤️
They come. They go. They sit at our table but eat nothing. In the morning we find their bowl still filled. Or was that us last night, sitting at the table eating nothing? When mornings come we never know.
Damn, you’re a genius…
This is so lovely Patti, thank you. I truly believe they revisit when they wish. We just need to be open to notice the signs 💜
❤️
Beautiful
That was beautiful. Thank you so much for the reading.
Thank you, Patti! It's wonderful to listen it read by you. I have my own copy of your book, translated to the Spanish versión. I recently lost my father and it's so soothing read your words: "The dead know nothing of time, they revisit when they wish".
Love this.
me too, poignant words
Such a strong poem. I am sorry for the loss of your brother and yes, the ones who pass away from us do visit unannounced. When we least expect these visits. I have no siblings but I really wanted a sister.
beautiful.
Sailing in mist, the canvas curls in the wind and shakes itself freshly
to help you go on
So lovely, thank you
… lost my dad a couple years ago, today his birthday … his childhood Irises bloomed this afternoon … visiting as he wishes…
I was calling you out loud in my kitchen. I worked with Chinese royalty living in England,
The Norman's invaded and the English again, subverted, French, so we are quite adept at take over mentality. 😔 I love this poem & reading Thanks 😊
🕯️
Love ❤️ thank you
what a beautiful poem, on my mind on my way to sleep, kisses
“...into a blackness so tight as to fold” So much magic in this poem, Patti. I wish I had written it. Yes, the dead know no time. We get through.
They do indeed visit when they wish. Thank you for the reminder, Patti.
This is so beautiful Patti. ❤
So beautiful. Thank you!
I’m sorry for your loss. So moving that you did his laundry.
That image of your brother's laundry is beautiful and real. Please take as long as you need.
So sorry for the loss of your brother. I have no siblings but I wanted one or two.
Thank you. I was struck by both the poem but also Patti’s last line of comment - “The dead know nothing of time, they revisit when they wish.“ Happened earlier this week but it was my Mom who had an untimely death.