Poems about Parting

     It’s approaching the graduation of some of my friends here at Durham, and it is likely that I will not see them again. I’ve never been that sentimental about leaving friends before, but a big thing I’ve learned this year is to appreciate people. I used to think I could live a hermit’s life, because human relationships didn’t really matter. But that’s changed over the past year as I got to know the guys and girls in our international Bible study group at church.

     I also remember those who were important in my life at some point, but then time and choice have caused us to drift apart. So I’d like to share two poems about parting, the first is an elegy; the second about not being able to escape memories. I don’t think there can be a remedy for the pain of parting, at least not till Jesus’ returns. Till then, I think we can and should feel the sting of departure – yet not despair.

Silence and Stealth of Days! – Henry Vaughan

Silence and stealth of days! ’Tis now,

          Since thou art gone,

Twelve hundred hours, and not a brow

          But clouds hang on.

As he that in some cave’s thick damp,

          Lock’d from the light,

Fixeth a solitary lamp

          To brave the night,

And walking from his Sun, when past

          That glimm’ring ray,

Cuts through the heavy mists in haste

          Back to his day;

So o’er fled minutes I retreat

          Unto that hour,

Which show’d thee last, but did defeat

          Thy light and pow’r.

I search, and rack my soul to see

          Those beams again;

But nothing but the snuff to me

          Appeareth plain:

That, dark and dead, sleeps in its known

          And common urn;

But those, fled to their Maker’s throne,

          There shine, and burn:

O could I track them! but souls must

          Track one the other;

And now the spirit, not the dust,

          Must be thy brother.

But I have one pearl, by Whose light

          All things I see;

And in the heart of earth and night

          Find heaven, and thee.

The End of the Pier – Nicole Callihan

I walked to the end of the pier

and threw your name into the sea,

and when you flew back to me –

a silver fish – I devoured you,

cleaned you to the bone. I was through.

But then you came back again:

as sun on water. I reached for you,

skimmed my hands over the light of you.

And when the sky darkened,

again, I thought it was over, but then,

you became water. I closed my eyes

and lay on top of you, swallowed you,

let you swallow me too. and when

you carried my body back to shore –

as I trusted that you would do –

well, then, you became shore too,

and I knew, finally, I would never be through.