To Sing

Our last canary rocks in his swing this morning,
singing merrily to the sky beyond the window
as if it were an old friend returned from night travels
to shower him with shining gifts of light.

The sudden death of his parakeet companion
no longer weighs so heavily on his heart.

He watched, stricken, as the dying bird
flew out of his body, through the cage bars,
and into a shimmering pool of light, vanishing.

There was no question, simply shock, then grief.
We might not be able to really grasp that kind of grief.

No, we tend to add some belief to our sorrow,
but the canary lives in a world unburdened
by any afterthought, and so its grief is total
and complete, like the utter darkness
of a clouded sky at midnight.

Today that sorrow is forgotten, that heart-piercing,
and so he rocks in his swing, and he sings, because
that is what he came here to do, before any grief,
and after — just to sing.


About Bob OHearn

My name is Bob O'Hearn, and I live with my Beloved Mate, Mazie, in the foothills of the Northern California Sierra Nevada Mountains. I have a number of blog sites you may enjoy: Photo Gallery: Essays on the Conscious Process: Compiled Poetry and Prosetry: Verses and ramblings on life as it is: Verses and Variations on the Investigation of Mind Nature: Verses on the Play of Consciousness: Poetic Fiction, Fable, Fantabulation: Poems of the Mountain Hermit: Love Poems from The Book of Yes: Autobiographical Fragments, Memories, Stories, and Tall Tales: Ancient and modern spiritual texts, creatively refreshed: Writings from selected Western Mystics, Classic and Modern: Wisdom of a Spirit Guide: Thank You!
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to To Sing

  1. Christine says:

    Totally unencumbered… Lovely

  2. Thomas DeMarco says:

    Not too long ago, a Facebook friend had posted an open-ended question: Happiness is __________ and wanted responders to fill in the blank. Being exhausted at that time with political poopstorm amongst my acquaintances I was happy to see this question! I responded “a choice. One simply chooses to be happy.” Coming from my head space at this point in my life it was the truest answer I could give, and implicit in that admission is the responsibility of happiness, and the culpability when one isn’t happy.
    Unfortunately, a mutual acquaintance was taken aback at this assertion. She responded to my post “I used to think that until I lost a child.” I struggled internally with her response, and was reminded of the dark tale “Ghost Rider” penned by one of my favorite musicians, Neil Peart. Neil is / was (retired now) the drummer and lyricist for the Canadian Progressive Rock trio Rush who lost his daughter to a car accident on her way to college and his wife to cancer very shortly afterwards, leaving him emotionally devastated and about as fragile as one can get. In his writings since his losses, he’s spoken of his disdain for the idea of karma, at least as he understood that word.
    In the end, rather that walk into a trap from which I knew there would be no escape, I opted to not respond to her statement. But had I done so, this writing would have been something I might have offered up as an alternate perspective. I am left to wonder, however, at the devastating losses humans can suffer like the loss of a child and the horrifying grief-madness that ensues. I hope I never have to find out directly; of that I am certain.

    • Bob OHearn says:

      Great inquiry, Tom! Yes, most of us do have to face terrible tragedies, it seems to come with the package of embodiment in this realm. How we react is what interests the soul element of the whole or total being. We may have been gifted with a peek behind the curtain, so to speak, via an NDE or other transformative spiritual experience, and know with a good deal of certainty that there is no death, it is an illusion. Nevertheless, the human element of out total being grieves over the apparent loss, and that must be fully felt and honored too. Indeed, it is precisely because we, in our spirit state, enjoy blissful immortality that we are attracted to experiences such as the human, in order to feel what it is like to be uncertain, to live for a moment in the unknown, to have these sensory and emotional reactions, as a contrast. After all, how can one appreciate unconditional love, for example, except by also experiencing its seeming absence? Do you see?

      Thank you, Tom!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s