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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=459714" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Love and loss and love again - a poem for Jenny and her friends</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Loss can be good for us, <br>researchers say (Nolen-Hoeksema<br>and Davis,2002) – it’s called<br>Post-Traumatic Growth…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When we ‘lose’ someone<br>we seldom see these days, <br>yet always love, we are in some strangely beautiful way<br>the gainers –</div><div style="margin:10px 0">lose someone who, caught a glimpse of<br>down a school corridor, is like<br>a mirror in which you’ll see reflected<br>yourself as nothing but pure love…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and when you meet her then, it’s just as if<br>you meet love – and a modesty almost uncertain: <br>as if she had been bestowed the awesome gift<br>of a part of sun and sunlight, and told, <br>bestow this wisely…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">warmth, and light, and beautiful humility –<br>even your great talent – I recall<br>a rare and radiant press review<br>of a concert in the Purcell Room<br>where you improvised on, was it, Ravel..? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and when asked why you never built<br>upon that boost, you said with typical<br>serious thought, well people don’t seem<br>to be interested in that sort of thing…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">so, the occasional concert; and another<br>undeveloped gift, for bringing together in opera<br>people who would never have dared<br>to seek the gift of singing in themselves…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">so, we the gainers in this sad yet joyful way: <br>we saw you just occasionally; now, <br>as often as we remember you, <br>you’re here again, as love.. just, love…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">my only sadness, Jennifer, <br>is that one day, when on your face<br>(never tell a lady to her face<br>about her face – yet I insult you<br>by saying that of you…) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">on your face I saw the look<br>of a little girl who’d done her very best, <br>yet feared retribution…what demon, <br>small or large, had you to deal with in yourself? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I regretted then, not speaking out<br>and asking you about that; yet<br>you, with your great talent to bring love<br>were better equipped than I; too wise, <br>I think, not to know yourself…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">for what you brought in your sweet nature –<br>taking work where it would offer, <br>playing the piano for a celebrated<br>but also modest ballet teacher, <br>playing a white grand piano next to a fern<br>in Heathrow’s nerve-strained hall…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">what you brought was the essence of<br>that Indian ‘Perfect Prayer’ which so many speak<br>but not all live out: that nothing can be ‘taken’, <br>for the remainder is always perfect…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">so we will mourn, or celebrate, dear Jenny: <br>we who were so fortunate, <br>and who shall remain blessed for ever<br>that you have lived on earth..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘sweet are the uses of adversity’ – for<br>there’s music in our souls</div><div style="margin:10px 0">*</div><div style="margin:10px 0">[Jennifer Bowring Pearce, >2007]</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=459714" data-title="Love and loss and love again - a poem for Jenny and her friends de Michael Shepherd" data-description="Loss can be good for us, 
researchers say (Nolen-Hoeksema
and Davis,2002) – it’s called
Post-Traumatic Growth…

When we ‘lose’ someone
we seldom see these days, 
yet always love, we are in some strangely beautiful way
the gainers –

lo..."></div>
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