Original Photography

Grief Postponed


He’s gone

A lifetime of 83 years

One last breath

And he’s gone

Absence

Silence 

Reminders

And then the pain

With no time to absorb 

No time to feel

Only the processes, the needs

Of affairs to be resolved

Dictating an attention

Refusing

Postponing 

The grief 

And now with only space

And a sudden influx of time 

Comes the pain, the tears

For he really is gone

Will you hold my hand…

Will you…
Hold my hand for a little while?
I don’t need you to save me
No need for you to fix anything
No need for you to hold my pain
But will you simply hold my hand?
I do not need your words
Your thoughts
Nor your shoulders to carry me
But will you sit here for a while with me?
Whilst my tears they stream
Whilst my heart it shatters
Whilst my mind plays tricks on me
Will you with your presence let me know that I am not alone, whilst I wander into my inner unknown?
For my darkness is mine to face
My pain is mine to feel
And my wounds are mine to heal
But will you sit with me here, while I courageously show up for it all my dear?
For I am bright because of my darkness
Beautiful because of my brokenness
And strong due to my tender heart
But will you take my hand lovingly, when I sometimes journey into the dark?
I don’t ask for you to take my darkness away
I don’t expect for you to brighten my day
And I don’t believe that you can mend my pain
But I would surely love if you could sit for a while and hold my hand, until I find my way out of my shadowland!
So will you…
Hold my hand until I return again?”~

~Zoe Johansen ~

Posting this poem as it is so fitting to the moment captured above between my dad and I on his last day here on Earth🙏

Angelic Presence

Thank you Diane, holding this ornament has given me a beautiful moment in time to feel the lost physical contact with Dipak, my precious brother.

Light as a feather 
You must have become 
 
As mostly I smile 
When I think of you
Mostly I feel
Comforted, when I am reminded of you
 
Is this what it means
When you know 
Your beloved departed ones
Have grown their wings
 
Brother dear
I feel a gentle breeze
As I know I feel you 
Looking over me
 
With your visits, your presence
Through memories
Of laughter 
And love and more
 
And now our souls 
Have found a new dimension 
So never are we to be lost again
As the love I feel is deep, true and resilient 
 
May you rest with peace
May I live with a grace
May we share the knowledge of true bliss
In both life with and without wings

Ancient Beads 


From a simple ritual
To the practicing yogi,
The one hundred and eight beads
Constitutes a time for intentional focus.

Initiated in the 8th century BC,
These spiritual beads in Hinduism
Now are used through Islam, Christianity
Buddhism, 2/3rds of the world’s population. 

Whether wood, seed or stone
They shall deliver
Properties of healing, protection
And most commonly, spiritual practice.

I gift this to you,
So you can intentionally 
Breathe 108 times
With vitality, feeling vibrancy.

Speak a mantra
Drawing you inwards.
Feel the earthly element 
Connecting you to Mother Earth.

Simply put, I wish you
108 blessings,
108 guardians,
108 freed moments 
Each and every day.

May you hold this mala
With the clarity it was made,
With the love it is sent,
And wisdom with which you shall use.

Floral Gifts

Unequivocal beauty

Blooming grace, like a dance 

Drawing riches from the terra 

Your petals defy the science 

Fluttering delicately 

Like wings of the butterfly

Yet with the strength of an army 

You win each battle for my heart

How gloriously you entrance me

Leading back to simplicity of gratitude 

Smiling outside and inward

Warmth of omnipresence made tangible