For Rachael by spectrum-creative-group

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TUSCANY AMERICANA BARCAROLLE NOSTALGIA OH JERUSALEM! INTERMEZZO JOTA (SPANISH DANCE) NOCTURNE (SELF-PORTRAIT)

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MAGI FANTASY IN F MINOR TANGO PRAYER OF SUPPLICATION TOWARD BETHLEHEM ALMOST A WALTZ RACHAEL’S THEME

Music Words AND

Absence

for an

ramón tamaran, piano

T he poems that follow

(which are part of an unpublished book of poems titled, “Lilies over Roses: Fragments of a Grieving Heart”) began to be written just a few days after the passing of my loving wife. So, naturally, in them you will find a sense of urgency and a desperate search and desire for a reunion with my beloved one.

Although the poems are just broken songs about two lovers, sung by only one, (the one left, waiting, behind), I believe and hope others in similar circumstances will be able to easily identify and see themselves in them, by the immediacy of their emotions and the proximity to the impact: the pain of losing a loved one has the tremendous quality of unifying each other in our humanity and to bring us, directly, to the source of our pain which is Love. Love for the one who left and who will help us, eventually, to find a deeper meaning to our lives and to learn to rely on those things that truly last.

The journey, for me, has just barely begun. I am still raw, lost at sea, and in the dark. From time to time, the storm and high waves recede and I can find a place to breathe, to feel, to think and to write—but then, to find myself, without warning or sign, back in deep water and with no land at sight. You will not find a biography of Rachael or me in these lines—at least, not of the conventional kind. But you will find plenty of references to both of our hearts—which, I believe, is our truest biography in this life. Suffice it to say that Rachael loved, wholeheartedly, and that she was much loved by those who were blessed to know her. Her radiant and loving presence illuminated all our lives. She awoke areas in my heart I did not know existed—and we walked them together, all, and as One. Rachael was not only my dear wife, but my soulmate, my best friend, the love of my life. She had a capacity to love and to see the goodness of others as no one I’ve ever encountered. Rachael was in love with Love, and that forever changed my life. Her very recent Transition has brought me, by force, to a place of profound, deep and relentless grief and, at the same time, to a place of immense possibilities, where my heart seems to expand, boundlessly, searching for her, for memories, for answers, for Love and for the Divine. Her legacy to me, as a dear friend so wisely said, is “A deeper and healed heart”. And that is what I am (ever, so slowly—and painfully) finding in my path.

This unfinished project is an attempt to honor Rachael’s memory, her life, her gifts and most importantly, her life-giving heart. Blessings come sparsely, these days. I’m just learning how to meet my dear Rachael after “the breaking point” of a new sunrise: The heart cannot compromise—it doesn’t flex like the mind does. It’s defined and contained—as a precious liquid inside a most fragile porcelain. And there are times in life, l have learned that for our sake, it needs to crack, and to break, so what’s inside is released and can finally shine, in all its splendor, and in all its might. It is there, in that sacred space, after the breaking point, after that holy sign, that our love, the love for the Beloved, becomes free, unleashed to run toward the already freed and unleashed Beloved’s heart. I have learned to feel Rachael, most intimately, at the junction in which indescribable pain can easily turn into Living Light, where my sorrow returns to its source, that it is always Love: in its presence and its realm. It is a place of ecstatic, mystical union. Our Beloved becomes our ‘little Christ’. No separation exists, any longer, between us. The wrenching pain, from which every fiber of my being wants to run away, suddenly becomes the cornerstone where I rebuild our temple of truth, love and light. There, we can finally rest and meet, as lovers, under Divine Eyes. And this climactic experience of merging souls, in love, triumphing over the sun, fades away and loses its shine and colors and even its warmth, and the ecstatic union of love disappears—one more time.

And I am back, treading water in the dark. A sobering reminder that this gain can easily pass—so quickly, so unannounced. A cruel realization that I have just started walking a long, long path. So, if any of these words, or poems, can provide any consolation or comfort—or even companionship from afar—to anyone during this, the most inhospitable, difficult and lonely journey of our lives, I feel that this colossal effort of trying to translate the language of my heart had some purpose, some meaning, at last. I certainly know how I would wish this unbearable ordeal to end, but also, I feel I should not set limits to what God might be planning for me at the end of this path. But it is hard… very hard. There is one single thought that occupies my mind: the thought of Rachael and her love—which I can no longer have. May all, or any of you, find in these words or music some soothing balm for your grieving heart.

Lovingly,

with you,

Ramón (in Rachael’s Heart)

Invocation

There is a veil placed between us of air and dreams —and ancient roses from foreign lands— painted with memories that shine from afar when I call your name or imagine your hands. There is a veil which keeps us apart so elusive and subtle that I cannot touch. So, tonight, I will pray to those mighty winds which the clouds command, to forever remove the veil between us —or to turn it, at once, into the exquisite veil of my sweet loving bride.

Mourning Song As a lonely sailor lost in endless blues and in an infinity of whites.

As an innocent child tries to find his way listening to the silent birds of the night. As the morning star so humbled by the sun—so bright. So, my soul, your radiant face, is longing to touch.

I thought repeating your name would open the sky, would rip off all veils and no longer be blind. So certain were you that I could meet you at sunrise? That after you left could my heart ever, fly?

Nothing remains of those old past tides, but just this mere dew under a scorching light. My loyal friend, what keeps me alive, is the sharp edge of this waiting that is cutting my hands. So, my love, my dear, how can I meet you at sunrise?

Aground 10

It’s not your absence that I fear, my love, but the waiting in this land of fading memories and forgotten paths of consumed ecstasies running away, through our naked hands. To not see your face again, to shine or to dive in the endless rivers of mercy born in your smile. It is not the uncertain future that shadows my life, but the unlived ‘now,’ the waiting in this land.

Tree of Life “What is that?!” One night you asked, with radiant face, with loving eyes. That day, I saw you, I saw you inside, with all the innocence a child can have.

A candid awe that filled my heart with such sweet love brought to my life.

“It’s a tree, a tree of lights, I bought for you, my birthday bride” That was the last time I saw you ‘there’,

I felt so close… I could not bear. (You looked at it, not long ago, —did not remember what you just saw). It was a tree, the Tree of Life, the one you planted inside my heart. The one it gave my own soul back and made me feel so blessed—as in God’s arms.

So when we meet and love again, I only have one last request.

13 I want to hear

That “What is that?!” With radiant face, with loving eyes then I will know, my dear bride, that we are together, in Paradise.

Offing

Who directs the voices that silence the trees? Where can I find new suns, meadows, creeks…? Is the tenderness of your hands forever lost at sea?

Tomorrow is a distant night I cannot dream, a sunrise emptied of light, of truth, with no waves for the streams, a name forgotten in the valleys, never heard, never seen, abandoned, (among men) in a faceless land, in a flat ravine.

In this night so empty of larks, I hear fading echoes of footsteps over the sand, mysterious marks leading the way to an impenetrable forest where all memories go to rest, to mourn, to find peace, to find love, and— if truly blessed— remember no more.

8:38am

At 8:38am the world stops. At 8:38am Heaven open its doors and diligent angels are sent to some hospital’s floors. At 8:38am a white new presence enters the room with words that are painful but I know they are not true.

He cannot even see us right in front of his eyes among all of the angels pulsing bright like stars. We were parting together while singing you a song, so close and united such a river of love.

And we left in his presence to what he was blind. He was not an angel, he was not of their kind. I did not leave completely some of me had to stay, stayed left behind to witness the Light, the Final Embrace.

The angels were kneeling, —so sacred their task— so little by little, one piece at a time, they lovingly gathered lost parts of my heart. And that was the end the end of my life among angels and songs (while I’m looking at them) and still, on the clock: 8:38am.

Acknowledgments I would like to thank the following people for their invaluable help and support during the making of this album: Drea, for having welcomed me into her life and providing me with a safe refuge under the warm and comforting roof of her compassionate, healing heart.

Steve, for his tireless patience, generous spirit, and his unwavering loyalty and affection during so many years, a brother to me. Luca, my oldest friend in these lands, who encountered Rachael’s radiancy before I did, and who with his literary knowledge and insights encouraged me to continue with this project—while others decided to remain silent. Providence keeps bringing him to my life at most crucial times. Jaime, for her loving support, encouragement, wonderful art and, most of all, for loving my wife. Will, Chris, Doug and Spring for their editing work and feedback.

Credits

Music Mastered by Steve Sobiech Photos of Rachael by Jaime Sweany Photo of Ramón by Kevin Atkins Graphic Design by Spectrum Creative Group

and last, but not least, Sasha, our loving miniature poodle, who is always by my side. Taking care of me during the day, guarding my dreams, at night.