He Was My North

   I met an old woman today, who told me she has been a widow for 35 years. Somewhat, perfunctorily, and automatically, I said, "I'm sorry to hear that."
 She said, "So am I ."

  Is it possible that for some people, there is only one special person in this world for whom there is only one soulmate?

Certainly, in this elegy by W.H. Auden called "Stop All The Clocks", we feel that sense of loss when a loved one dies and also we feel lost, without direction, especially when the poet says:

   He was my North, my South, my East and West,
   My working week and my Sunday rest,
   My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
   I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

Everything beautiful in this world becomes meaningless when you lose a loved one. The grief is imponderable and time seems to stand still, because your memory stands still. You can listen to the poem being read aloud here

Stop all the clocks

                 W. H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

   If you have experienced the depth of that love, then it is not unimaginable that some will never marry again or love another person in the same way.  Listen also to Savage Garden's song about love that is forever.