•
this day as I journey
I come upon a stranger
standing by the road looking sad
heavy box held in his arms
clutched close to his breast
he stares into my eyes expressionless
his gaze stops me still
fixes me in place
his face is tired and drawn
etched in withered worry
when at last I move
I draw close enough to see
this sullen man is me
everyone is born with some special talent
he sighs
I am a collector
of tears shed in moonlight
the pain of love’s betrayal
the grief of empty lives
he concludes
and offers out his hands
that open on the box
he beckons me retrieve
this container he protects
filled with apprehension
I reach and grasp the case
lift it cautiously from his grip
lay it gently at my feet
it opens as I do
slowly
to reveal its strange contents
three lone broken hearts
confused yet riveted
I ponder haunted as I do
then inquire of the meaning
these are yours
I am told
created by your deeds
cruelly left behind
as coldly you moved on
each belonged to one who trusted you
a trust you did betray
without a second thought
love you tossed aside
abandoned carelessly
now the burden of this box
is mine beyond the grave
eyes lowered in fatigue he exhales
it was on a road like this
that it was passed to me
I have carried it too long
I am weary from the load
looking into my eyes he points
now you must bend and lift
and clutch it to your breast
to struggle with its weight
until you pass it on
searching the distance he goes on
someday a stranger will approach
over that horizon
he will stop and stare
transfixed by your presence
you will charge him with this chest
then he will lift and carry
as I do
in this cycle of forever
for he too
will be you
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
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These things have a habit of coming back to haunt us.
The music fit the poetry so beautifully.
b
This is beautiful. I enjoyed reading this and the music with it was so fitting.
Oh my goodness, this touched me deeply and gave me the shivers. Beautiful, poignant, and inexpressibly sad. You are wonderfully talented.
Your poems seem so sad Rob – a deep hurt somewhere ?
Haunting! In fact, immediately I thought of Dickens’ Scrooge haunted by Christmas Past, Present and Future! A little intimidating in some ways, because this could, indeed, be any one of us! A beautiful piece!
It’s sad.TThe pain and loss don’t just fade away they merely pass on…
I first read your poem yesterday and came back today to re-read it and comment.
The prompt takes on so different a meaning when used in this context. So elegiac a quality is here, and the artwork and music lend their to it. The narrator’s burden weighs heavy, the passing on of a sad truth common to us all.
Very nice, Rob.
To be so haunted is often the stuff of literature. Great words.
I am a collector of tears shed… ohhh, wow. Love this line….
Your words and art work move me like the tide. Your blog is by far the best I have viewed and listened to this year. I am glad to add you to my list of blogs I follow. Thank you for sharing. PJ
Exquisite a write to read. Enjoy coming back here for more.
It makes me think…how many broken hearts are in my box, how many tears–a tidal wave. It makes me pray every day to be kinder. You’ve written a thing of great beauty here.
This is a heavy burden. Break a heart carry for ever more a box with broken hearts. The load is heavier than any baggage I could imagine. Sort of reminds me of the male version of this story The Red Shoes by Hans Christian Anderson. Hauntingly good poem!