Arriving at the Language of Light
The Language of Light eluded me for many years after my mother passed away. A few poems surfaced now and again but it took me much longer to process the murky layers of grief that form after losing a loved one, a mother, a best friend – she was all these and more. Her artistic sensibility guided me, especially through the tough years of adolescence when I first began to write poetry. She was a painter and her eye for detail and the beauty in nature was ever-present. She enjoyed good health until cancer showed up, oddly the same year for both of us. While my mother lay in palliative care, I lay on the radiation table.
After she passed away, I found myself unprepared for what death and grief required of me. To navigate this barren field, I sought far-away places and ancient traditions— for solace, for healing, for soul-connection. These journeys took me to the Temple of Good Will and the Fulni-ô ceremonies in Brazil, to Meteora, the Oracle of Delphi, the Corycean Caves, and Skala Eresou in Greece. I was assisted by a blind monk at the Buddhist stupa in Pa’ia, Maui. Ultimately, it was poetry that lifted the veil for my inconsolable heart and revealed the indisputable oneness of our true nature.