Remembering Jim Guter

Note: Jim Guter’s funeral service was held Saturday, December 17, 2011. This poem was shared at the beginning of the service. Several people asked this to be shared on the blog for others to access.

Thoughts bubbling up. Moving out and away. Is there a direction, a point?

Loss of a friend to death. Inevitable in time, but shocking in the moment.

Sense of loss. A hole to feel; a hole to fill.

But how much time will this take? Does this take? 

Onward to tasks. Keep busy. Which ones to focus on?

What would Jim say? Which would he insist we do, now?
To what effect, he’d say; do X to get Y; but Z in time is served, too.

Focus on feeling; let images form. Our secret language of inner self?

What meaning needs expression? What must we share with another?
Is this the stuff of art? The work that needs doing? What is being said?

The play in three acts, or two. The poem in 10 stanzas or 22. The sculpted pot.

The drape of fabric, and its color, too; and yes, its texture!
Musical line, tempo, lilt, mood. It moves us in ways words cannot tell.

Ears and eyes. Breath held. Anticipation. Images before us, in front of eyes, inside ears;

Unfolding senses of movement of ideas, shapes, sounds…….
Aha! Breath released. Idea formed. Message received. The connection of ‘art’

Audience. Group. Community. Self alone.

Our interaction draws us out of inner recesses. Into presence of others.
The magic of social awareness, messaging, understanding. Seeking connection?

Understanding feeling; sensations. Inner urges.

Messaging among unknown partners. Communicating. Something.
Is this the task of art? Is this what we are about?

Jim would know. He did.

December 18, 2011