By Daniel Paiz
The time has come to once again remember the past and reflect on who is still around, and who is not. Dia de los Muertos offers one the time to not only reflect sadly on lost loved ones, but to also recall what made us smile. What made us enjoy that person, enjoy our time with them, and enjoy things today even without said person present.
Grief is something that develops differently for everyone. Sometimes there is anger, sadness, and tears; other times there are smiles, melancholy and reflection. Everything goes in cycles as Q-Tip once said. This piece here is to reflect on the handful of people I think of this time of year. One thing that might help you process who you miss could be writing something out about who is on your mind. It doesn’t have to be long and flowery, and it doesn’t even have to rhyme. That’s what will follow for me, albeit with a bit of tying things together.
Recordando el Pasado
The hawking of the Lewis woodpecker inspires adjustment in the moment,
navigating different spaces to energize oneself,
how I move differently dependent on who I encounter.
There will be times where you flounder,
but waves of reflection come as they may,
just like the moon’s glow
you can predict how that will go
but still not be prepared for it.
That’s not to say
names can’t be engaged,
memories aren’t worth a genteel walk and gaze,
yesterday’s experience is not today’s experience,
but teach you it can if you trust.
Do not rush this encounter,
recall the laughter of times prior to 2009,
then the passing of importance in 2011,
less than seven years later a passing of
who I realized made me a writer,
and 2021 was no fun when that shot fired.
Acquired lessons now from retrospective times,
defined noise awakens me and convo beckons,
chatter if you will,
akin to an Andean flicker,
memories, not blood, is the thickest.
One thought on “Recordando el Pasado // Remembering the Past: A Dia de los Muertos 2022 poetry”