we felt so grown up
when we were kids
and now wonder that
we are so old when
we're not yet grown
we started losing
our parents to
time and frailty.
in the cycle of life
things go upside
down sometimes
you rush
d o w n
the
rabbit hole
into a world
above the logic of sorrow
and find you are so
small, but remember:
Mom's high ceiling,
your sure ground.
see the sky and trees
in your pool of tears
they're the other side
of life. how beautiful
things are when they drown
how clear it is underwater.
you long to run
to the garden
beyond that door
but you don't fit
life would feel deformed
under the weight of loss
if it weren't for the faith
that was bigger than the
life that shut down
she archived her fears and
hopes in her kids, did
anyone hear the story
in between, did
anyone look?
hold fast
your heirloom assurance
the midnight of your dreams
is really a new day.
for HJ &
anyone else
who would like it
I'd love to share this on my network.
Like this:
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A Holistic Journey 
history returns
I was about to visit! So glad you sprung up (again. =) ). Makes it easier.
🙂 thanks .. I like the flower in the hair 🙂
*Smile* 😉
Very beautifully written:)
Thank you. I don’t think it’s among my best, but what matters is the gift it is for readers and for my friend in particular.
It hit home for me and I thank you …you say it so nicely:)
Did anyone hear the story, did anyone look…I love that verse. You said this so well. A wonderful poem.
Thank you! I love it.
Thanks, JS.
My dear friend in NYC lost her father and buried him this Sunday. With a weeklong shiva which I am unable to attend… my heart goes out to my friend. With grief so deep and sorrow so raw, sometimes all we could do is express our sympathy… some of us do so with a gentle caress, some with shared silence and some with beautiful creations of beauty– whatever form takes flight. Thank you for your poem.
Oh…thanks for sharing the things going on over there.
I love the soothing rhythms alive within your words…a very enchanting and beautiful post! Hugs and blessings my sister!
Just saw this lovely feedback of yours. Thanks so much, Wendell. You have such a great humble way of lifting others up.
I like this: ” … she archived her fears and hopes in her kids, did anyone hear the story in between, did anyone look?” Question for you: do you think that we sometimes cannot shift out of an analytical space, which pushes us towards poetry with a bit of tension? I am guilty of this. I have a desire to know “what this means”. So, your words ” … did anyone hear the story in between, did anyone look?” I think I know what that is about … It really rolls. Obviously I am curious. Keep writing.
A faithful reader asked me a similar question, which I will be opening an upcoming post with – the finale to my writing series. I guess, like him, you don’t feel I’m a “random” writer?
So is your specific question the meaning of that line? Did anyone bother listening for Mom’s whole story, between the fears and the hopes for her kids? We are as happy as our child’s happiest. As a parent, the well-being of your child does define you. But we do forget our mothers were once people who even had a childhood – I think they sometimes forget, too. I have, about myself – until recently (hence the two prior poems). My friend’s mother was the epitome of sacrifice. She gave and gave and until she gave up her spirit.
I appreciate your time and support.
There’s a holiness about the way you express heart’s expression ! Wonderful !
I was so grateful for this comment on holiness because, to the truth and beauty I’ve been exploring on the blog, it added the third virtue the Classical thinkers prized: GOODNESS. You’ll understand from my latest post, the Finale.
So true. Since I am the the only one left of my blood relatives – this hit home.
Ohhh…thanks for sharing that. *Squeeze hand*
Is that in part why you value history so much?
Thank you.
I was influenced by my father as a child to like history, but the loss of my family is quite possibly why it so very important now – I see how much we lose when the people involved die.
Beautiful and thought-provoking. Thank you.
Thanks for the encouragement and your time. =)
Your wonderful post brought tears to my eyes. Take care and keep inspiring my friend.
I am so blessed for readers like you. Truly. Thanks so much.
My pleasure my friend.
Beautiful poetry full of passion. There is a piece of us in your story. Somehow you were able to express the things we longed to say. Wishing you a life of joy and blessings.
The resonance is something I hope lives in my work.
losing a parent or even seeing them in their weakness can be so hard and humbling that is for sure…as they were the rock in our universe the whole first part of our lives…my mom broke her leg a few years back and we had to care for her…we did it gladly but that was the first ping of reality in that realm for me.
Brian, I wrote the poem for my friend but the painful ping you speak of (can be a zing or zap, too) that you lifted from the piece and share out of experience takes me right back to when I started noticing my parents aging. I got very agitated (putting it mildly). I realized later it was from the sense of helplessness. Wise way of putting it…how they were our rock the first part of our lives. Even if they weren’t this noble, dependable rock my friend still mourns, there are unspeakable ways they were a necessity we took for granted. And we begin to see them crumble. Thanks so much for your time.
So beautiful and poignant, and especially meaningful since I am still trying to adjust to having lost both parents. My “Parents and Parenting” Category on Soul Gatherings speaks to exactly this. Thank you for this lovely work.
Theresa, oohhh, I got your pain. It bleeds through your posts still. I appreciate the distinction you make between closure and survival. Glad you pointed me to that section. Funny how my poem hit you where it still hurt because my friend’s mom was 60 when she passed away.
Be blessed and comforted.
i like the hopeful note you end this on… sometimes reality seems to weigh heavy on us and we def. need a place to dream those dreams and those rabbit holes can lead you to the most interesting places…smiles
Thank, Claudia. Interesting you take note of the ending. I just picked up poetry again after a decade – and that time 10 yrs back was just for fun. I realized that I would’ve ended a recent poem I posted very differently 10, 20 years ago. I can rest (end) on hope now. Blessings. Diana
‘Remember Mom’s high ceiling, your sure ground’…….Beautifully written.
Thank you. I have to give credit where it’s due. That was the one idea that came from my friend in mourning. I reworded what she said. I appreciate your time and encouragement.
‘did anyone hear her story in between, did anyone look’….
all credit to you for this beautiful poem.
Ha ha ha you had to give me credit, huh? Thanks so much. I really appreciate your time and kindness. =)
“she archived her fears and hopes in her kids, did anyone hear the story in between, did anyone look?” Wow, ow, bullseye, poignant, painful, thank you for recognizing the lost spaces, even though it made me gasp, cringe, and curl over with my arms wrapped tightly around myself.
That is the power and point of art.
Aye yahyahay, Eileen. Sorry it hurt so much. =( I do get the compliment. Sorry it came at a cost to you. Big hug. Thank you so much for your time here. Diana
This one resonated with me as it must for anyone well into their cycle of life.
“we felt so grown up
when we were kids
and now wonder that
we are so old when
we’re not yet grown”
Why does our awareness of time lag chronological time?
“in the cycle of life
things go upside
down sometimes”
Don’t they just.
“and find you are so
small, but remember:
Mom’s high ceiling,
your sure ground.”
Yes. We all need this “sure ground” at some point in our lives
“you long to run
to the garden
beyond that door
but you don’t fit”
Wanting to return to that more peaceful time of our lives seems to be so universal that we must be hard-wired for it.
“she archived her fears and
hopes in her kids,”
Beautifully put. That’s exactly what we do.
Now THERE’S an illustrative comment, if there ever were one. Will say it again: you’re too much, Malcolm. Thank you so much for the honor.
Beautiful – love it:)
Really enjoyed your site. Thank you for the follow.
Diana
Beautifully written. It prompted personal memories too.
Aww, Ian. I hope it wasn’t too painful to think back, if it was any.
*Pat hand*
life would feel deformed
under the weight of loss
if it weren’t for the faith
that was bigger than the
life that shut down
I feel that this is the most compelling lines I have read in a while. Very good job with this piece.
Thank you for the clear, heartfelt feedback, Jeremy. I appreciate the follow as well. Welcome to this special community of thinkers. Hope to talk again.
Warmly,
Diana
The cycle of life brings both joy and sorrows. Joy in the experience of childhood with nurturing and loving parents, and after they have gone the memories of those pleasant times. Sorrow in that those happy times can no longer go on except in those memories.
We know the sorrow is coming and yet take for granted our loved ones while we can enjoy them.
how fast the roar of youth is an echoe of noise small in the distances. I can’t say i’m unable to handle things or even admit that hell of i don’t know but it’s getting done anyways. it’s not a large feeling but it is larger living. funny that paradox continues of big and small. the smaller I am the bigger i have to live- yet the bvigger i’ve felt…ahhh what large emptinesses 😉
You should post this on your blog. =)
I see what you did there in the 4th stanza. I fell in the hole, but the left margin helped me climb out. Thanks for the lovely ride!
We always need a margin to climb out. =) Thanks, N.
On another note, I typed my comment before reading the rest. Lesson learned. Beautiful poem and I am glad it’s being appreciated.
Having just returned from taking care of my mom I can identify with the bittersweetness of your lovely poem – thanks!
Aw, sorry it’s not been easy, Jan. The poem was for a friend who lost her amazing mother…and as I said, anyone else it speaks to. I hope you get some good rest in this wknd.
D.
Agreed. Much identify here too.
Pingback: I Ought. – dreamtimestarmanjones
very good! Loved the last line!
Thx. =)
Thank you. So beautifully expressed.
The thanks go the other way, R. =)
You sure know how to hold hearts of the readers. Thank you for sharing this piece of absolutely wonderful writing. ❤
What LOVELY feedback, A.S. Thank you, my dear.
❤ ❤
About that “archiving of hopes and fears”…I/ we could all write a book about that phrase. Wow. I’m in the middle of some painful realizations about my own adult children. Too painful to post about right now, still. Your words hit home. Thanks for this one. And don’t stay away for too long.
You are the best, V. And here’s a bear hug for the pain. I can feel its weight.
Love,
Diana
💖 💘 💝
My dad and I were going through stuff in his attic when we came across pictures that he didn’t remember having. They were pictures of he and my mom (now deceased) when they first got married. It doubled the number of their wedding pictures I have from 2 to 4. Something that simple brought tears to my eyes because it connected me to the past and gave me something tangible to hang onto in loss.
Chills. Thanks so much for sharing such a precious discovery, Deb.
Alice through the looking glass without the dedication to M! What a wonderful reminiscence of our days here on earth. How magical they truly are in spite of what we are taught of grow to believe!
I really do love your poetry.
Aw, hey! Thanks, you. Very sweet.
You deserve it at least, you have such a way with words. xxoo
The midnight of your dreams is really a new day. Beautiful thought to ponder. I’m now at the age of passing beyond my midnight dreams.
I’m sure there are things you can see there we could use in our younger folly.
Love,
Diana
Great post . I think you will enjoy this one
https://reallifeofanmsw.com/2016/11/19/honor-the-empty-seat
Great poem — I like the last line: “the midnight of your dreams
is really a new day.”
I appreciate the feedback, DS. There is always another side to it. That is all over Scripture.
Lovely imagery and beautiful words. Well done!
Thank you, DP.
You’ve captured that space between being a child while also being a mother with grace. Thank you for your beautiful words.
It is I who owe the thanks for the beautiful words.
Beautiful poem. You managed to sensitively capture the whole life and death experience with grace.
What a lovely comment. Thank you so much for your time.
Indeed ‘life goes upside down sometimes’. The essence of life full circle. Beautiful poem Diana. Happy Thanksgiving. :)<3
Was just thinking of you today, D. Same to you, my friend.
Xxx
Thank you . . .twice! <3xo
Isn’t strange how you take people for granted – but when they are gone, you start looking at them closer. And sometimes you find things you are amazed of.
“but when they are gone, you start looking at them closer.” Very well put. Food for thought.
Well written. Thanks for liking my post
Wow.. it made me reflect..
Aw, thanks.
Beautiful and it hit home completely. 👌👌👌👌👌
Thank you.
Lovely poem. It took me back to a certain time in life. Thanks for sharing with us. Love and light.
Thx for letting me know.
“the midnight of your dreams / is really a new day.”
Great lines – really beautiful.
Thank you for the lovely feedback and follow, Katrina.
Diana
Diana you have such a unique way with words and this poem is stunning and I could here the clock of time ticking away as I read it and thought of my own childhood. The loss of time scares me for I know not where it goes and it goes so fast. Thanks for sharing it.
Kath
What beautiful feedback, K. Time…never fails to surprise us.
Xxxx
D.