Poetry: Selections from Robert Pegel

Weight of the World

It’s no small thing

to lose the one

you love the most.

When you’re on the brink

of a breakdown.

Where do you go

for hope?

In this life of highs and lows

no one knows

when the waves will

wash them away.

I couldn’t say

which direction to turn

while standing at

the crossroads.

Pure love.

Unconditional.

Perfect.

It breaks my heart.

But it will never go away.

Is there no one to protect us?

The silence at night

will howl forever.

Nothing left to do but crawl.

Return to the source.

The center of it all.

Too much to ask

to be left feeling like this forever.

Suspend this act in the middle.

The audience cannot bear the ending.

The power of its weight

will traumatize for a lifetime.

Wings and a Soul

The cardinal was there for days.

Who knew the reason.

Repeatedly tapping the foyer

window with its beak.

Look at me I’m here

it seemed to say.

I’m someone you know

visiting with a message.

Make sense of it all.

Day after day

switching from one

window to another.

A second floor bedroom

window today.

Down to the first floor

window the next day.

A narcissist bird in love

with its own reflection?

Perhaps a showboat

bird trying to impress its

mate lingering in a pine

tree nearby.

Or maybe something

altogether different.

A spiritual agent.

Bringing good news

or forbearing

the worst about to come.

The secret power of the

most sacred bird.

We owe it to ourselves

to at least stop and

recognize one

who crosses our path.

Thankful it graced us

with its presence

at a moment in time

and opened us fully

to a sense of wonder

beyond our understanding.

Levels Apart

When time doesn’t matter

soon is around the corner.

Awakening from your nap,

yawning…

My thoughts return

to that dream.

Giving hope.

All will be well.

In your new home

I hope that

you barely have time

to miss us at all.

StilI I look for you

searching from room to room.

Thinking that you

shouldn’t be hard to find.

But there are oceans in between us

for now.

Hard as it is to accept.

No one and nothing is to blame.

Faith follows tragedy

when there are no answers.

Try to not to break down.

Strengthen my will

anyway I can.

As the days number in hundreds

heading to a thousand

I know you will remain

by our side.

Unseen but present.

Patiently waiting.

We will be together again.

How did we get to this place?

I ask myself every day.

I’d scream out to the world

if anyone had an answer

or knew what to say.

The silence is loudest at night

when the sorrow can’t be tamed.

Have to last beyond the pain.

The kind that I can’t explain.

Who am I to question

if God’s will is done?

Nature’s Reminder

Ideas woven in the mind

can’t be uprooted deliberately

or by chance.

Heed the warning mindfully

measuring extremes.

Fly gracefully as if owning

the wings of a monarch butterfly.

At the moment there is

no purpose in hiding.

Witness a baby rabbit feeding

on fresh cut grass on

the manicured lawn.

Not a worry in the world

knowing nothing of death

in this lifetime.

Take a walk outside

nature has nothing to hide

and a perfect order

to it all.

Follow its lead and flow

with relentless rhythm.

Syncopated heart music

surrounds us all.

Awaken to your calling

as the moonlight magic

draws near

where the nighttime

sounds come alive whether

heard or not.

Life’s labor is lessened

for a little while.

A brief respite restores

order to the mind

and soul.

The world and all its

trouble matter less

than ever before.

Nature’s magic prevails

yet another day.

Daydreaming in Technicolor 

The painted sky summons

the imagination to think

beyond the clouds of this world.

Contemplate all that could be.

Use the part of your brain

that has never been used before

while we walk in wonder.

See the vast expansion

over the horizon.

The magnificent colors envelop

our wariness.

It is safe and welcoming

to move forward.

Take the next step until the

circle is complete.

The moment is all that matters now.

You will feel peace

and union indescribable

as you continue

on your journey.

You are watched over

and all is well

in this world and beyond.

Robert Pegel is a husband and father whose only child, his son Calvin, died in his sleep at age 16. Robert writes to try and transform his grief by creating. Robert also holds a BA in English from Columbia University and has been published in Backchannels, Resurrection Magazine, Goat’s Milk, ZiN Daily, Fahmidan Journal, The Madrigal, 433 Magazine and others. He has work forthcoming in Door is a Jar and North Dakota Quarterly.