Seven years ago today, on May 2nd 2016: my Dad, Prasun Tagore left this earthly plane.
I had just written a play called, “Letters to the Universe” and he left in the middle of it.
My Dad saddened me into my life’s work and my calling. He lifted me onto my road, my path.
Of Remembering. Who I am as an Artist whose stories are for her loved ones to transition, and birth and grow into the Promise we made our Ancestors, and into the Life we came here to Live.
This time of my life has truly been Saturn. So hard. And so heartbreaking. In the way only Saturn can break your heart. In the way only Saturn can sadden you so deeply, into the greatest joy and love you could ever experience here on Earth.
My Dad was Saturn (with a Capricorn Moon). After he passed, my Mom designed bookmarks with a tree behind a poem my Dad had once written, to share with our friends and family. I look at the poem and I see my Dad’s Heart.
In the poem, he talks about how he listens so hard, but he could never find his place in the song. But even so, it is his greatest dedication to keep listening. He says, he keeps listening, even if his efforts don’t amount to much. But maybe that has been his place all long – to listen. To Try.
A couple weeks ago, this song “randomly” came up on my youtube home page, called “Saturn.” (Listen here.)
It broke the dam in the way that only songs can, because the lyrics to this song might as well be the poem my Dad wrote.
I read the poem my Dad wrote, and I listen to this song called Saturn, and I know that his dedication was never just about listening, it was about listening for me. He was always just listening for me, the love of his life, his child.
The lyrics say in his voice: “I tried to write it down, but I could never find a pen.”
I’m the one with the pen, Dad. You never found it because you had already given it to me.
I’m the one with the sword. I am the saddened warrior. My words are weapons that can only Seed under Saturn’s light and can only Live through my Love of the Universe.
“I couldn’t help but ask for you to say it all again, I tried to write it down, but I could never find a pen.”
And I say:
“I’d give anything to hear you say it one more time, That the Universe was made just to be seen by my eyes.”