Across the Liminal Divide

A father, beloved, curled like a fawn
once a safe port in fitful storms of wrath
eyes of a cornflower nimbus sky
and a mind filled with battles long past
I saw his defeat, and now he is gone
lost to the bronze song of history

One year slips past without him, and then
wretched, auspicious, a message appears
traveling across the benign expanse
of gossamer sea and land of verdigris
through precious space, shelter from disdain
the cycle turns once again

A mother, estranged, her spotlight fades
further away with each labored breath
Would it aid in your journey
if I told you it was not all bad?
Should I show you the joy you have missed?
But silence will reign, for I will not confess

that your eyes smiled with your teeth
and you gave me the gift of life and words
only possible without you
The moment is beyond us now
what could have been lies dormant
forever and never, two yet the same

When the acrid missives cease their march
and the grasp of fear dissolves
I will heed the benevolent sign
at the rise of the brilliant gilt sun
to be finally, blissfully free to move on
And I will hear the echo of his voice

as clear and strong as a ship’s bell
telling me she is worthy
because she gave him the gift of me
For when she follows him in destiny
the two halves of my divergent self
will reunite, divine in eternity

By: Tiphanie Anderson

Tiphanie resides in a Seattle suburb with her husband, Tim, and their dog, Toshi. As an empty nester, she draws inspiration from her two adult children (yes, their names also start with T!), the arrival of her first grandchild, and the art of living in the moment. She holds a Certificate in Writing from the University of Washington.