stuck to the wall
my son’s laughter
I planned to say
our last goodbye
the path of the butterfly
my son tries to catch
potted morning glories bloom
all but one
tied shut
by vines
another hour passes
by your bedside
in the shade of a tree
a cicada cries
poking through the blinds
moonbeams
I leave a feast
for ants
the absence of
expectation
transportation costs and
peaches
the weight of
a sick child
I hear the heat of summer
cicada
the last grain of sand
another minute gone
Very well written and full of emotion. Having a sick loved on is one of the hardest things you can have especially when it's your child. Is everything OK? That last goodbye bit sounds very final
It’s been a hectic couple of weeks, and these poems reflect a mishmash of happenings. My grandmother passed away, and my son had a sudden 104 degree fever that lasted four days and gave us a bit of a scare.
That's a rough couple of weeks. I'm glad your son is feeling better, 104 is pretty warm! Sorry to hear about your grandmother, it's tough losing them. The only thing worse is when you lose your parents. I hope you're holding up OK! Life can throw us some seriously curve balls and they tend to come all at the same time!
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Yes, they do. But, especially when your busy, things get back to normal pretty quickly.
Sorry for your loss, and the sick son.
Thanks.
What a powerful piece! I'm torn between my appreciation for the way the story was told and the sadness brought on by the contents. This is the essence of what poetry is to me. Great write.
Thank you for your comment.
I didn’t quite realize how all of these poems worked together to create a story when I posted them, but after reading some of the comments they received, I can see the arc they create.
I intended only to capture small scenes, thoughts, and feelings from each day over a two week period. This time period just happened to include the passing of my grandmother and a somewhat scary illness that my son had.
Greetings @boxcarblue ,
If only we could all express our thoughts in such a way....this poem communicates a sorrow humans have, yet do not quite know what to do with it, how to cope, what to think.
'not the way
I planned to say
our last goodbye'
It seems all too real as you have so beautifully expressed it here and it is...we have all experienced it.....that is one side of the coin for those who have no hope...the other side of the coin for those who have confidence in God, in His Promises...they know that if this dear one has believed in the Lord Jesus Christ....they are going to Heaven. That is the believer's comfort....they do not miss them any less, however they do have confidence they will see them again in Heaven.
The Bible promises in many passages these things. this is but one of them.
'For God loved the world so much that He gave His uniquely born Son (Jesus Christ) so that anyone who believes in Him shall never perish but have eternal life.' John 3.16
It is faith alone in Christ alone for salvation.
'For by Grace are you saved through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.' Ephesians 2.8,9
Thank you for opportunity to speak on these things.
Kind Regards, Bleujay
I read once that the aborigines in Australia have a custom where they never mention a person again after that person has passed away.
I think the article may have said that they even burn all of that person’s belongings and essentially erase all traces of his/her existence.
I’ve always wondered how that works, and how they feel about death, how they grieve, etc.
I don’t know why but your comment reminded me of that.
Greetings @boxcarblue ,
Oh dear...I did think about changeing my wording where I wrote...they do not miss them any less....as it could come across quite the opposite meaning....Christianity teaches to honour the dead and that though we will miss them very much, we have the confidence that we will see them again one day in Heaven...if they are believers in Christ.
Very sorry about the poor Aborigines case...so sad.
Kind Regards, Bleujay
a nice selection of tercets with a sweet selection of humorous (one) and heartfelt (twelve)
It’s nice to hear from you. Thank you for commenting.
I am left with a deep sadness here. What's going on, if you don't mind telling us all. I understand if you don't.
I’m sorry. I’ve been extremely busy with a number of things and haven’t been able to keep up with posting introductions/making short freewrites to introduce these posts.
I didn’t realize the impression these poems would leave when read altogether. For me, they are just a sampling of my day-to-day life which, over the past two weeks, has included the death of my grandmother and nursing my one-year-old son through a five-day sickness that was unlike anything I’ve experienced with my other two children.
Some of the poems, like the one about watching the medicine drip by a bedside are a combination of me imagining my father’s experiences and using the images I observed while video chatting with my grandmother just before she passed away.
Others, like the morning glory poem, aren’t actually about death, but about education in general and questions surrounding the home life of particular students (prompted by actual observations of students’ morning glory plants).
I think the absence of a bit of narrative, and the skipping of a week's post, did cause me to think the difficulties were greater, although losing a grandmother is not easy at all. Having a very sick child is pretty difficult too, they are so helpless seeming, and sometimes we feel helpless too.
I just remembered the time one of my daughters was so very sweet while she was sick, and so very rude once she got better, that I actually said to her "I liked you better when you were sick." !!!! Parenting fail! She loves me still, at the ripe old age of 33, so it's OK, but boy did I make some bad moves with my kids.
I started to write a narrative and then found that I didn’t know where to begin, and as soon as I felt like I was losing time, I decided to just go with a poems only post again.
I don’t particularly like making diary type introductions, so if I can’t find something to connect my weekly narrative too, I generally don't feel very good about it.
It turned out my son just had roseola (I think that is the correct translation), but he had a steady fever of 40 degrees and slightly higher for three days, which is 104 degrees Fahrenheit, and there were times when his breathing got strange so I found myself feeling very torn about whether to run to the hospital or not.
It was a bit scary at times, and with the death of my grandmother on my mind, my thoughts were a bit extreme.
Cycles upon cycles; life cycles, cycles in nature, thought cycles. Your words hit a plethora of feelings and emotions that we all experience throughout our lives. Unlike other times when I drop a comment, I don't have a favorite haiku as each one catapults me into a different reality.
If that’s the case, maybe there where a few more gems in this week’s post than usual. 😊
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