Many years ago, in a conversation with a fellow pagan, they shared with me their sense of the divine: that all living entities – humans and animal – have an energy (that is commonly referred to as a soul), and this is connected to a power beyond our understanding, the deity. This energy connects us to one another, to the gods, and to those we have lost.
While writing is said to be therapeutic, I’ve always thought of writing as a gift as well – a remembrance of a loved one gone into the veil before you. This piece was written following the death of one of my red-eyed tree frogs, and invokes images of the ‘amphibian land’ beyond the veil.
–
beyond the veil
I.
beyond the veil
neotropical rainforests
hushed in silence
a hop and leap —
bountiful insects
on translucent wing
hazy warmth and
spirits of clutchmates
in a chorus of colours
jade, sapphire and garnet
II.
beyond the veil
no longer aching but
mournful with happiness
soaking in rainfall mists —
journeys taken in the winter
and souls departed in summer
but forever remaining close by
a mate and separated chorus
and gentle hands
calming spirit slip through
III.
beyond the veil
memories linger
while grief fades
in the rainfall mists and
neotropical forests
of the summerland
soft chorus calls
in remembrance
with barking song —
in memories
in sorrow
remember i’m with you
just hidden
beyond the veil
< for Tara >
–
Michelle Kopp
is an overworked graduate student and part-time writer in Saskatchewan, Canada. She resides with a collection of zoo animals and the memories of loved ones gone. She’s currently practising a type of Reconstructionism, which is not really reconstructionism-by-definition. Her work has recently appeared in The Diverse Arts Project and Yesteryear Fiction, and has pieces forthcoming in Two Hawks Quarterly and Leaves of Ink.
hyacinth noir 