“The Cairn”

On By Mike U.In Poetry

“The Cairn”
(c) 2023 by Michael L. Utley

a handful of stones
the currency of a hardened heart
cannot purchase a reprieve
from the weight of mountains
upon my soul

scree of memories
who can navigate the slope
of ankle-breaking regrets
the sharpened shale
of the empty slate
where hope
was once etched
and now only
dust remains

we walked that path
through the foothills of yesterday
where everything was evergreen
the eternal evening
redolent of lilac and honeysuckle
and wild rose
and the wan moon
dozed in the lavender sky
and you were there
but you weren’t there
your body in a mountain meadow
and your mind in
a roiling pit of despair

I held your hand
more tightly than I should have
I couldn’t let go
not then
(not now)
but you didn’t seem to mind
your trembling fingers
nested in my palm
like a dying sparrow
losing heat
as you lost opacity

I could see you fading

we walked that path
where the trees thicken
and congregate
and whisper furtively
and the air hangs in tatters
from gnarled, pensive boughs
and you closed your eyes
and hummed an atonal tune
more of a whimper than a song
and I tried to accompany you
but my voice was gone
stone-silent
lungs airless
mind blank
and your strange aria
stirred the moon-dappled patches
on the path
into a kaleidoscope of sorrow
and a smile touched your pale lips
as my heart broke

I held your hand
until it was nothing
but a memory
the sky above
now an empty void
your skin iridescing
in the gloaming
as though tinctured
with fallen stars
and glowing novae
evanescing
your essence diminishing

we walked that path
until I walked alone
your silent song
forever in my mind
an echo among
cold indifferent granite peaks
the sound of emptiness
of a heart in pieces
of a life bereft of solace
a handful of stones
to remind me
that you existed
long ago
and far away

should you ever
pass this way again
look for the cairn
along the path
there you’ll find
what’s left
of my heart

45 thoughts on ““The Cairn””

  6. This is absolutely breathtaking, Mike. It’s a true masterpiece! Each line resonates with sublime emotions. These verses are undeniably melancholic and beautiful,
    “I held your hand
    until it was nothing
    but a memory
    the sky above
    now an empty void
    your skin iridescing
    in the gloaming
    as though tinctured
    with fallen stars
    and glowing novae
    evanescing
    your essence diminishing”

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    1. Thanks a bunch, Aaysid. Your comments always mean so much to me. I seem to have a running theme regarding the slow death of relationships and the helpless feeling one experiences while watching something die and not being able to save it. I suppose I’m still working through some things in my life, and that’s why I love poetry so much. It’s a helpful tool for processing emotions. Anyway, a sincere thanks for your constant kindness, which always hits its mark. Truly grateful for you. 🙂

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    1. Thanks, Diana. Yet another of my sorrow poems. Here’s a weird analogy. My late mom was a farm wife/mother. She used to cook pinto beans fairly often. Before the beans were ready, the pressure that had built up inside the pressure cooker had to be released in a controlled manner for several minutes. Only then could the good stuff be experienced and enjoyed. I find these melancholy poems of mine to be my way of dealing with sadness, hoping eventually there will be joy. So, despite the dark subject matter, I believe there will be a point where I can create poetry focusing on hope and beauty rather than pain and regret. (Btw, my mom made amazing pinto beans and homemade chili. 😀 ) Thanks as always for your kind words. They’re balm for my soul, my friend. 🙂

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      1. I understand the analogy, Mike, and what a lovely memory of your mom. As an ex-grief counselor, I know the importance of “venting the steam,” sadness, and all the crazy-making feelings. Acknowledging and expressing them is the path to release. You already are an amazing bean in my book. Lol. But I too hope that someday you find you’ve made some wonderful chili with your talent and your life.

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  10. Beautiful and full of emotion! Your poem allows us to walk along with you, to experience the sorrow and loss, to feel the heartbreak, and to survive alone. The process offers acknowledgement and healing for all who have been there. Thanks as always for sharing your gift and your heart, Mike.

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    1. Kindest thanks, Peggy. I know I’m not the only one who has loved someone and watched, helpless, as she disappeared from my life. Still working through some stuff, I suppose. If my poetry resonates with anyone and helps people in any way–even just assuring them that they’re not alone– then perhaps something good can come out of my own sorrowful experiences. The hardest thing is to believe we’re alone and no one understands what we’re going through, you know? I’ve said it before but it bears repeating: I’m so glad you’re a part of this WP community, Peggy. Your kind words mean a lot to me. Many thanks for stopping by and reading and commenting. I hope your Independence Day is a good one. 🙂

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    1. Thank you for your kind words, Cecilia, and I’m sorry for your loss. I’ve always been fascinated by stone cairns and their significance. They guide us and mark important turning points along a path, and lend themselves so aptly to our life’s journey. They’re like memorials to those we love who are no longer walking the same path as we are, and they help us remember. Sending you strength and peace as you make your way along your path. Thanks again for your kindness. Much appreciated. 🙂

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    1. Hey, Jeff! So good to have you stop by and leave such a kind comment. I really appreciate it, my friend. Here’s hoping summer (and life in general) is treating you well. 🙂

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