This is Not a Horror Movie
Waiting to be snatched
to be left in the woods
with no path back
Waiting to forget
names and faces
to lose your place
and everything you trusted
How will it end?
Asleep in your bed?
Will it come all at once
when you least expect it?
Will we all be picked off
one by one?
Will there be a light?
Will there be blood?
Will we have a caring
hand to hold?
Will we fade
like words on paper
or fall like dominos?
How long before
we’ll be forgotten?
Will we go willingly
or will we be taken?
Will our souls exist
once our body has vanished?
Will there be reunions
regrets, relief?
___________Colleen Redman /Poets and Storytellers United
September 16th, 2022 12:48 am
I’ve been having these thoughts too, ever since I started the new series. Death, remembrance, mine, theirs… not in a morbid way, thoughtful perhaps. This poem resonates deeply.
September 16th, 2022 1:37 am
Oh, those universal and imponderable questions! They become ever more real as we age. Well, we shall find out some of them at least – but do we really want to after all?
I work as a psychic medium, so I can tell you, abased on many years of evidence, that souls do exist after the bodies have gone. But I don’t know that my say-so is convincing unless you have your own experience. (I also don’t have any definitive answers as to where the souls go on to, or exactly what happens next.)
September 16th, 2022 1:38 am
Meanwhile – oh, my arthritic fingers! I mean of course ‘based on’, not ‘abased’.
September 16th, 2022 8:47 am
So many questions about The End, and our individual ends…and so few answers!
September 16th, 2022 10:32 am
These pondering existential questions seem unanswerable … and perhaps we are deep-down glad that they are … but our natural curiosity must ask not only about the ending but also about how it all began.
September 16th, 2022 11:11 am
So true and well said, Penelope.
September 16th, 2022 12:44 pm
I must confess to feeling emotional today, I cannot pinpoint why. Tears fill my eyes as I try to compose a response to your poetry. I wish with all my might my essence lives on after I am gone .. in my children’s memories, in their dreams .. that their children know me, my stories. Thank you for gifting us this poem Colleen.
September 16th, 2022 1:28 pm
It is a deep and emotional topic that I immerse myself in as I, as poet David Whyte has said, apprentice myself to my own disappearance, and that I have been studying since I lost my brothers, Jim and Dan, a month apart in 2001. Thank you Helen for reading and appreciating the exploration.
September 16th, 2022 1:35 pm
I’ll say “yes” to some of these queries, “No” to others, and shrug my shoulders at the balance. Can you figure out which? No?
September 16th, 2022 10:37 pm
You are right, no answers yet? I do have one, I forget names and faces, I could never describe Mrs. Jim for a police photo. Once I get to know the person, I can recognize them but still I can’t remember their names when I want to.
..
September 17th, 2022 2:17 pm
I’ve had those questions a lot after my dear friend passed. I think I fear the possibility of silence too much to press too deeply.
September 18th, 2022 2:56 am
how we go and what’s next are always questions at the back of our minds. And probably we would not like to know the answers so soon. 🙂
September 18th, 2022 11:40 am
I wonder if it helps to answer any of those questions with anything else than maybe…
September 18th, 2022 12:24 pm
Meant to provoke thought rather than answers.
September 18th, 2022 10:48 pm
So many questions … so few answers! Things we all think about especially at my age!
September 20th, 2022 6:06 pm
I’m hoping for reunions or transformation. And if those aren’t possible, then may we get relief. Guess we shall see, eventually…
September 23rd, 2022 4:33 pm
I have no answers, but I do have all the same questions.