Poetry: Making Arrangements

Making Arrangements

By: Courtney Beck

 

I remember the day that I learned you would die.

Just A child, pierced to the very center,

I contorted and screamed

and ran into your arms.

 

I strangled your every word of comfort and

Though you were thoughtful and kind,

found them utterly unsatisfying.

You couldn’t rearrange this new reality,

no matter how hard you tried.

 

And who of us wouldn’t try?

Who of us wouldn’t attempt to shroud

the loss of a god so large?

I’m afraid there are not enough

sheets in a global hemisphere

that could veil such a cavernous void.

 

So I made arrangements.

I put you at the corner of my heart,

And felt the distorted and sick sort of safety

That one must feel at the edges of an airplane,

Right before you dive.

Right before you trust the parachute,

That thin and corded sheet that we’ve packed just so

For that moment in the air,

In some distant future, or maybe later today,

When, because of our meticulous planning,

we’ll believe in the power of a rip chord

to keep us safe.

 

This did not do.

This did not suffice.

 

I’ve never liked the edges of an airplane.

I’ve always wanted the wide open spaces,

of the green and grassy fields of the earth.

I’ve always wanted full breaths of warm air and morning dew.

I’ve only ever wanted the warmth and comfort of your presence.

 

And so I re-wrote the flight plan,

The best that I could.

I closed that fearful doorway and

landed the plane in our field.

And either at a distance or close by

I suppose I made arrangements.

I worked at loving you

From the center of my heart,

And though human and limited

It was perfect.

 

Today I walk in the cold, cleansing rain,

remembering your ways and your words.

I feel your necklace as it swings,

side to side, step by step

On the edges of a heart that

loved you from the very center.

 

I decide that

Warm tears and a cool rain will

fill an empty cup, eventually.

I decide to make arrangements;

and hold this vessel.

I determine to watch it fill, and overflow,

Full of gratitude, full of fire.

Full of rest and full of life.