clouds and raindrops.

today was the first time i have been to mike's grave since he has been buried.
i've wanted to go long before this. i had plans to go back in january but...
well, we all know where i was in january.
other significant dates, like his birthday, patrick and chris go together and i am totally all for that. it's something that they need to do.
today i was near there and i went.
i wandered around a little bit. i remember looking at the freshly dug up earth the day he was buried, but since it was icy we didn't have a graveside service. i couldn't remember precisely where he was. i wandered through the headstones, marveling at how quiet it was.
after a few minutes, i found him. there he was. his headstone was lovely, with a photo etched into the stone. his family had lovingly maintained the space, there were several mementos, plus there was mulch over him along with two little solar lights. for a minute i just stood there. i couldn't speak, i just stared. stunned into silence i guess. i sat down and plucked a piece of the mulch up off the ground, shredding it in my fingers. it's still hard to believe sometimes. he's in there. he's under there. i can close my eyes and still see that day.
i felt like i wanted to speak. i opened my mouth and my brain just went into overdrive. i couldn't find words to say. but, me being me, i had a notebook. so i found the words to write instead. there were two pages. the first page is actually there, i tucked it behind one of the mementos. it was a pretty varied page of things that were running through my mind.
the second page? well, i wrote something new.

june 19, 2011
a wide smile spreads across the smoothest of stone
once brown eyes turned slate gray
laughing and frozen in time
the birds sing their gentle song
flags rustle in the slightest breeze
those are the only sounds heard in this place
amplified by the silence of the dead
that rest in the depths of the earth.
the grass still grows
the insects still move
regardless of all that is around them
this land of shed tears and muffled cries
of wooden boxes and crushed souls
of raindrops falling on flowers spun of silk.

i'm not sure if i necessarily like the piece, but it flowed like water. when i was done writing, i put down the pen and book and stared at his headstone again. only then i began to talk.
what i said will stay between me, God, that headstone, and Mike if he was listening. but it was almost a relief. to sit there, to be in that place. to talk to that stone.
anyway. this is an odd post. so i'll wrap it up.
i'm going to label this with the what i wrote wednesday tag because i missed this week. wednesday for me was...tricky.