When I was 23-years-old, my grandmother died. My grandfather, to whom she had been married for over 70 years, quickly lost his mind, and spiraled into mental oblivion. Honestly, back then I didn’t really care. Elderly people, death, losing a spouse of over 70 years, didn’t concern me. I was too busy dreaming of myself as a poet and a writer, anxious to tear myself away from these curiously ancient, not quite humans, and get on with my life. I What I didn’t understand that the inspiration for whatever poetry I thought I would be capable of was right there in my grandfather’s eyes.

Claire Pommet is a 26-year-old singer/song-writer from Lyon France. She’s been writing songs and poetry for over 20-years and has an astonishing maturity for someone so young. Three years ago, she lost her own grandfather to Alzheimer’s, but, unlike me, she knew how to engage the moment. The result was a song called La Lumière. This young woman might be the great romantic poet of our age. The fact that she utterly looks the party only adds to it.

In the end, I would not succeed in becoming a writer. I didn’t have the talent. But had I had the courage to look into my grandfather’s eyes, I might have found the inspiration, my muse, La Lumiere.

The light
If I did not find the light in your eyes again
It’s because your heart let go of your lungs, a river
In the castle of secrets you are the youngest
We know secrets about it, you tell them to not forget them,
forget your children, and the children of your children
Forget your name, and the path of the house
The precious things of your past, of your joys, your angers.
You cannot remember it, its the wind that always scares you Theres still light in your eyes,
We could find it again, in the heat underground.

And forget your children, and the children of your children
Forget your name, and the path of the house
And forget your children, and the children of your children
Forget your name, and the path of the house