A series of poems by Beccah

Grams

In this instance , my body is separate from my mind
My body is pulled along as my mind replays old memories
My body and I, we dance sloppily to the melody of it all

We dance to the old coffee pot perking loudly at my grandmother's home
My body's feet moving to the pitter patter of coffee hitting glass on Sunday mornings
The kitchen lit up by the early morning sun
Our hushed voices serve as the perfect accent to this growing symphony

My body is pulled with my mind to a later time, after my grandmother has passed
The music swells like the fluorescent lights in the hospital room
My body's feet move rapidly, tripping in sloppy harmony to the quiet hum of the ventilator
My mind pulls my body along.
Over, up and in circles around the sticky honey suckles just outside the hospital doors
The birds outside whistle along to the solemn tune of memory

We, my body and I, dance away from the blue sadness of it all to the sweet smell of candy
Small, adolescent laughter fills the absence of a hum with wild child-like playing of a violin
My body's feet are scraped against sidewalk in wild abandon
As we dance under the warm sun on Halloween
My body's arms thrust upward in reckless abandon, driven by the music of it all to feel every ounce of warmth the day has offered
My being, body and all, are in a sort of weightless bliss after days of being weighed down

Me, my body, and my mind all continue on this journey down memory lane
We are now twirling absentmindedly in the middle of the road
My body's feet are tired , but they are hopeless when faced with a tune so sweet
My mind watches as my body finds solace in the moonlight
The click click of the lone streetlight fades with the music
My body continues to dance even without it
We, my body and I, are now in a stand still of nothing
Twirling only to the screeching crickets hiding in the grass
That serve only to remind us we are here

My mind connects herself once more to my body so they may come together in a peaceful slumber under the stars
My body now finds herself lying on her back on wet cold concrete
My mind now finds herself wondering how beautiful the sky must look to my grandmother as she walks across it
I find myself listening to the wind, for the pitter patter of her feet walking to rejoin the stars
My body and my mind are together in their acceptance
The acceptance for the loss of the only real mother I've ever had
They are unified in the absence of music with a silent nod to one another

Until we meet again