We all have to deal with loss of some sort in our lives. We are usually told to deal with as best as we can, but it still hurts. Jessica Moore shares the pain of a loss in her collection called Everything, now. And the wealth of emotion she shares is bountiful.
Memory is a strange bird
doling out the world in
the stuff we are made of.
I am the keeper, now,
I hold them all.
Tonight as I write I become conjurer –
when I open my hands:
a thousand sparrows.
Moore has shared her grief over the death of her lover in a bicycle accident. (The book is dedicated for Galen) She shares her feelings and emotions about her loss in ways that many of us feel at times but never dare to reveal.
Ghosts move through this house
with all the windows
and all the doors open
they move in swathes
Spaces we inhabit contain so much –
or rather, allow –
wind and motion,
silk reams blowing,
our own long-drawn souls.
This body is not a closed thing,
not the shell, but a room with windows,
simple vines gathering at the sill.
Come, come to the doorway:
I will show you my yellow room,
Why does it seem crass to read about Moore’s emotions here? Sharing it makes any reader not feel alone in their pain not matter what their loss is. And this book is an excellent starting point for anybody talk about their feelings.
I wrote to you a week after you died. The postcard I chose was one you would have liked – it had a bicycle on the front. the day was impossibly bright as I stood at the window of your apartment with a box of matches and a thin marble tile as my hearth. I held a corner of the card and watched it bend and twist with orange, blue and black, reducing itself to whiteness.
I tipped the tile out the open casement. Suddenly, a flight of ashes: dazzling. The back of my neck prickled as the air filled with this silver play, particles that paused and shifted in mid-air, lifting rather than falling, sparkling with life like poplar leaves in sun.
Everything, now by Jessica Moore is a book filled with emotions dealing with loss. But most touching is the fact that Moore has the courage to share her feelings with us, the readers. And in turn, we feel less alone with our losses.
Afterword pages 99-100
I felt at first a great resistance to the idea of creating anything from this loss. I violently rejected the thought that grief could be condensed to the page; and I shoved away the idea of building anything poetic from it or in relation to it. I was scared of reducing it – I wanted to honour the loss of Galen as terrible, sacred, and whole. As it was for me. I was afraid that writing might be a betrayal of that. But in truth, nothing could diminish it . And beyond all the fear and resistance surging up in me, writing was just what I had to do, and have continued to do, all these long years.