Paul’s Gift in Verse

One of our Channel Erik family members wrote a lovely poem in honor of Erik. For me, it was enough for Paul to share his wisdom with us, so this is simply the icing on the cake. Read this one carefully and think about a loved one when you do. The words will tug at your heart strings. I suppose the only good thing about grief is that its intensity is directly proportional to the love we have for those we have lost. The love we feel for them and the love they feel for us is like never-ending ripples across our soul, our heart and the deep pool of tears that endeavors to drown us every day. As I reread this, I will think about all of our precious angels who wait behind that thin but stubborn veil for until the time we will join them in a warm and joyful embrace. For them, it’s but a blink of the eye, but for us, it seems like an eternity. Thank you, Paul. We love you.

Dear Elisa,
I wrote a poem in honor of you and your son.  I hope you like it. Love, Paul


Green mountains jut into the sky,

like conical zigzags touching the firmament,
seabirds float on the air defying gravity.

Ocean liner cuts a path through the fjord,
creating waves that start from the bow, splitting off port and starboard,
until the waves become ripples gently kissing the shore.

When I think of your life in the quietude of my mind I wonder what it all meant.
You rode waves with recklessness until the whitecaps broke,
throwing you upon the sand, you laughing all the while.

Oh, if you were the darkness found at night in a pitch black sea,
I was the lighthouse beaming rays unto the briny sea,
hoping you would raise your eyes and find me.

Didn’t you know that the stars above shone just for you,
illuminating the hole that you had fallen into?
Didn’t you know that my love was a light surrounding your soul?

I watch as ripples generate out, gently vibrating,
becoming smaller and smaller, until their energy is spent.
Can anyone hold a ripple in their hands or hold it close to their breast?

For your life was like a stone skipped upon a pond,
creating momentary ripples that quietly fade
as day tenderly becomes night.

I watch as the ripples of your life awash upon my heart,
cutting through the impenetrable void
that threatens to swallow me whole.

Don’t you know,
my tears are like a river that cuts a path
through the fjords of my heart?

For I may not be able to capture a ripple nor hold it close to my breast,
but deep inside of me a stream flows
having snared the ripples of your life.

Oh my child, my sweet boy, my grief has turned into joy
for your darkness has become light.
For your ripples now vibrate in search of broken hearts.

Oh my child, my sweet boy, as long as I shall live,
the ripples of your life will break softly upon the shore,
tenderly capturing the souls lost in a whirlpool of hopelessness.

I watch as your ripples cut a path through the fjord,
you ride the waves with such joyful recklessness,
until you are thrown upon the sand, you laughing heartily all the while.

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Elisa Medhus

  • Steve

    That was beautiful. Thank you Paul for that incredibly moving poem. I’m still blown away by the fantastic stuff I read on this blog.

  • Danielle Notaro


  • Shannon

    Paul, that was so lovely. You’re very inspiring.

  • Alexis

    What an amazing dedication of love for two very special souls <3

  • Robert

    What a moving tribute Paul! If you aren’t yet published, I wouldn’t be surprised if it is in your future! 🙂

  • Paul, you have a gift…and you ARE a gift to us! Thanks so much for those lovely images! 🙂

  • Skoshi

    “Didn’t you know that my love was a light surrounding your soul?” I can’t imagine a better way of saying it!

    Much shorter and less artistic, when I was a young woman I saw this on the grave stone of a child who had lived only a couple of months:

    You were so soon done
    I don’t know why you were begun.

    So much pain in so few words.

    • Boy, these two short lines are packed with so much emotion: grief, despair, disappointment, frustration. How well I know.

  • Rania

    Tears in my eyes, beautiful, Paul. Thank you

  • Shelley

    Tears in my eyes too…thank you, Paul, for the gift in verse…I lost my boy 11 months ago today

    • I love you, Sweet Shelley

  • Sharon

    Beautiful imagery and intensity…every line sent a wave of emotion…a wonderful gift you have and you shared.

  • Paul Conklin

    Dear Elisa, Steve, Danielle, Shannon, Alexis, Robert, Ceridwen, Skoshi, Rania, Shelley and Sharon,

    I am glad that you all liked the poem and I was happy to share it with you. I spent some time looking at the photos of Erik and the Medhus family so I could try to capture the personality of Erik. He comes across as very extroverted. He seems to be filled with life. He always had a broad and mischievous grin on his face and so I tried to express that in the poem.

    I also was trying to express the fragility of life. Just as you cannot capture a ripple in your hands, you cannot capture a life in your hands and hope to express that life with any success.

    I used a ripple as a metaphor to describe the life of Erik Rune Medhus. There is something inexpressibly beautiful about those things that we may overlook, like ripples. The meaning of anyone’s life can only be understood as you become still and let that person’s life enter into you. Just as a ripple is inexpressibly beautiful, so Erik’s life was inexpressibly beautiful. Erik’s joie de vivre was and still is, infectious. Life is not meant to be lived in dourness or misery, life is meant to be lived with a free and joyous spirit, such as the spirit that Erik displayed.

    I love all of you, my dear friends. And I am so happy that I found Elisa because as she heals so do we all. We can find joy in living again and we can share that joy with others that are suffering intolerable grief.


    • Don’t you just love this guy? How can someone who has experienced such loss share so much joy. I love you, Paul!

  • Paul Conklin

    Dear Shelley,

    I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your son. I must share something with you. After my son died a friend of mine on a spiritual forum channeled a message back from my son. What was so mind blowing is that my friend heard the words “‘weep not,’ for me.” My son did not want my wife and me to grieve too much for him. My friend wrote to me saying that he normally does not speak that way. Why was that a confirmation for me? Because earlier this year I wrote a poem entitled: “Weep Not.” My friend did not know this, but my deceased son did know this.

    Your beloved son is alive and well. I know that does not bring much comfort because we would rather have our loved ones here with us. I would like to share this poem with you and I hope that you can find some comfort.

    Weep Not

    You approach my grave to make a connection
    that you can no longer accomplish.
    You offer petals from a fragrant flower
    that peels off and floats unto my final resting place.

    There is a light that filters through the trees,
    illuminating the granite headstone that highlights my name.
    There are tears that spring from your eyes,
    watering the green grass, like dew from heaven.

    You believe that you can’t go on
    as you hurl yourself onto my dust.
    You are prepared to end it all
    because you are convinced life is not worth living without me.

    My beloved, please arise and take my hand.
    Feel my spirit encompass you as we journey together.
    Let me dry the rain that wets your face
    and allow me to blow away the dust that clings to you.

    I am the wind that flows through the trees.
    I am the sun that arises each day, giving light to all.
    I am the song that fills your heart with wonder.
    I am the life that still breathes within you.

    For whenever you walk this land,
    feeling the tranquil breeze touch you,
    then you must know that I have returned
    to caress your hair and kiss the nape of your neck.

    For whenever you awaken,
    feeling the golden light pouring in through the window pane,
    then you must know that I have returned
    to shower you with my warmth and my passion.

    For whenever you hear joyful sounds,
    feeling the music of the cosmos raining upon your soul,
    then you must know that I have returned
    to sing you a song of hope and elation.

    For whenever you believe that dying is better than living,
    feeling that your world has stopped spinning,
    then you must know that I have returned
    to reassure you, that even though I have died, I continue to live within you.

    Weep not, my beloved, for I am the wind flowing through the trees.
    Weep not, my beloved, for I am the sun that arises each day.
    Weep not, my beloved, for I am the song that that fills your heart with wonder.
    Weep not, my beloved, for my life still breathes within you.

    Arise from the earth that holds you in its grip!
    Feel joy awaken you from the dead!
    Sing with tears of exultation once again!
    Weep not, my beloved, for my life and my love will ever live within you.


  • Skoshi

    You really caputure feelings so well, Paul. It reminded me that Robert Frost said he never once in his life wrote a poem about nature. I assume that means everything was symbolic, as are the ripples you envisioned. Thank you!

  • Sharon

    This is an exceptional blog with all the stories, comments, sharing and caring. My son Eric has only been gone three months. I do not believe I could have managed as well as I have without Elisa and everyone here.

    Paul, your poems are moving. They brought tears to my eyes…but not tears of sadness…tears of relief…that someone else understands.

  • Shelley

    Thanks, Paul

  • Alexis

    Dear Paul,
    You have such a wonderful gift; to craft such beauty, emotion, compassion and love, which you graciously share with those of us who have been guided here to Elisa & Erik’s inspirational journey.
    My thanks to you and to all of the special souls who are part of this profound experience.
    Love & Blessings to All,

  • Alexis

    Out of darkness comes light. Thank you Paul. XOX

  • Paul Conklin

    Dear Elisa and everyone,

    I know that you all have lost a loved one and that you are hurting deeply from that. I also know Elisa, that the anniversary of Erik’s death is approaching. I hope that you will be alright. Our sons suffered so much. Their minds were a torment to them. If we could have stopped their torment we would have, but we were not able. However, they are alive and well, free from the mental illness that tortured them when they were alive in the flesh. I wrote a poem that I hope will comfort you and others that have lost a child. I wrote this poem for my son James Andrew Conklin, but the sentiments are universal. I hope that you all can find some comfort.


    As daylight fades, night shadows return
    to dance upon the ceiling.
    Fear flees from you, taking with it the demons
    that once haunted you.

    Nightmares that once imprisoned you
    in an orgy of psychotic torment,
    have been destroyed by the dawning of a new day
    that arises upon your embryonic soul.

    Thrown you were into the hole to count all of your days,
    a life in solitary confinement.
    Convicted you were not by a jury of your peers, convicted you were not by a judge of the state.
    Tortured you were by cruelty, the cruelty of your mind.

    Close your eyes and weep no more,
    lay your weary head down,
    feel the cooling breezes of spring free you
    from your self-imposed prison.

    Open your mouth and sing with joy,
    dance atop wild grasses swaying in the sunlight.
    Spin and shout with wild abandon
    until the daystar retires for the night.

    Let moonbeams illuminate your path
    as you gleefully chase fireflies glowing in the dark.
    For the prison gates of your mind have opened
    allowing for your escape.

    May you sleep peacefully just as you did
    when you were embraced in your mother’s arms.
    May the poisons of panic and anxiety leach from your pores
    as you are engulfed by an ocean of serenity.

    As daylight fades and shadows return once more,
    feel me stroke your forehead with tenderness.
    I kiss your brow
    and turn you over to the care of the angels.

    Close your eyes and weep no more,
    lay your weary head down,
    for here, ever after,
    you shall rest in tranquil peace.

    Oh, close your eyes and lay your weary head down,
    go to your rest my child,
    go to your slumber my son,
    from now and evermore, sleep well my son, sleep well.


    • Aw, Paul this one is very special indeed. Erik and James are no longer in that prison and I can clearly see that in the way Erik talks, pranks and behaves in the afterlife. It’s like the Erik before the disease caged his mind. His Erikness is back, it’s strong, it’s free, and it’s full of life and love. I think Erik is more full of life than he has been in the last 4 years of his “life” and I bet the same holds true for James. Thank you for sharing this healing gift.

  • sindhujaa munirajulu

    Absolutely beautiful…..Thank you for sharing this.

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