When One Of Us Crosses Over

When one of us crosses over
You can feel the mountains shaking
With sobs that wrack our shoulders
The collective grief of a tsunami crashing down
On our chests, our smiles, our tears
For weeks, meals are prepared, no planning necessary
Human chains of clutched hands, grasping shoulders
You’ve never smelled so many women’s hair
As you hold onto people’s backs, sharing the weight

When one of us crosses over
You can feel them in everything,
The sun basking in its first glimpse of its reflection
In the morning mountain light
The sound of the snow below your skis as you carve
The day’s most beautiful, powerful turn
Faceted snowflakes twinkling rainbows on snow banks
During your evening walk
The scents of springtime – pine needles, moist soil,
Buried compost of last year’s aspen leaves
They are everywhere, in every breath you feel them,
Hyperaware

When one of us crosses over
We craft altars, shrines, memorials
Of favorite views shared with friends
Decorated with life’s favorite items,
And visited frequently,
Offerings poured out, bites left behind for the wildlife,
Joints lit, prayers sent, laughter and tears consummated

When one of us crosses over
Life feels hushed, delayed even, as
Hundreds of us together recount misadventures
Last moments together, mislaid plans for the future
Small town mouths never cease their chattering
“How did you find out?”
“Did you hear this detail?”
“Who told you that?”
“Have you talked to them yet?”
Love disguised as pitiful human patterns
Chickadees chittering on bare branches
Communal loss so deeply felt,
It even makes the front page of the paper

When one of us crosses over
I imagine a giant game of tug ‘o war,
With the other side’s end suddenly going slack
And the rest of us abruptly upturned
In a giant heap, a puddle of disgruntled elbows and ankles,
Sharp intakes of disbelief and horror
Of our community attempting to pick up the pieces
From this loss, to run our tongues over new holes
We’ve never felt before
New gaps we never imagined
New bruises we now have to nurse

When one of us crosses over
We try to dissect, unwind, probe the mycelium,
The cat’s cradle of our love and connection
We vow to live like they did
“For those who cannot, we shall”
We try to savor what they can no longer enjoy
We try to reconcile, we hold each other,
Put stones in the holes and the gaps
Poultice on the bruises
So at least something is there

When one of us crosses over
Together, our hands hold and steady the bridge
Our collective strength promises safe passage
A send-off of devotion, veneration
We huddle under the bridge,
In the shadow of what we have lost
We keep each other warm by
Holding onto the memories and the love
We feel the weight lessen as one
We tuck those closest to the grief in every night
And welcome them gently each morning with
Slow movements, soft hugs, warm cups of tea

When one of us crosses over
We know our feeling of loss is not going anywhere,
But we know our feeling of love is stronger.
We know these feelings are one and the same.