To My Mother Lou Alice – I know it’s hard to go thru the desert—but know that God is holding your hand and I am holding you in my heart. I love you—and ache for you – your daughter No. III Priscilla IV
Inscription on the flyleaf of “Streams in the Desert – Mrs Charles Cowman“
Ever since you announced it quietly and so matter of fact my words failed, unspoken. We'd always talked openly, often even as a teen, withdrawn and moody with tears and tantrums too. I still treasure them all. Your faith though was a small but silent barrier. I never could cross to make that leap, so incongruous. And so, with this book, I'm trying to speak a language for the dying to help break bonds of blood to say "adios ~ go with God" ii Good things come in threes and you dear daughter are one of these. Truly divine, this gifted book, felicitous both title and theme. Death is a wilderness alien, unknown, and one we all traverse alone. Days, though, are fast trotting past sore as a camel ride, a seasick sojourn on that desert ship. And when comes time to dismount, to cross the plain I'll go how only the wind can take me (am praying for a spirit guide to show me) Just now I treasure every moment we have left to be. iii Till now I've put off ditching her belongings for years the attic room gave space enough to store dispensing with the need to closely sort and pare the owner's wheat from tares. How readily these parables became my daily usage with fragile faith I've kept reliquaries enshrined some valuables amongst the knickknacks letter piles besides those bygone books. Slight foxing now appears throughout their pages here's my inscription, still legible in ink. I've not written anything since but still we speak- in whispered messages.
For my MTB: Critique and Craft prompt: “On the Flyleaf” we are to pick ONE from a given list of actual book inscriptions, as theme for this poem. An additional option is to compose it with different voices.
This tells such a story of parting (ane maybe also understanding) for that long journey ahead. Very heartfeul
thanks Bjorn – from that small beginning this journey grew!
Your poem reminded me of Carol Ann Duffy’s work, Laura, and I love how you took the inscription and created two different complete characters, as well as a story. I was tempted by this one, but it made me think of the film The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. My favourite lines:
‘…Days, though, are fast trotting past
sore as a camel ride, a seasick sojourn
on that desert ship…’
and
‘Slight foxing now appears throughout their pages
here’s my inscription, still legible in ink.
I’ve not written anything to you since
but still we speak- in whispered messages.’
thank you, Kim, for your generous appreciation and especially the Duffy association
You’re more than welcome, Laura. Duffy is a favourite of mine.
me too (amongst so many others)
This is so moving, Laura. I like the conversation between the two–yes, the journey–and how you brought it back to the inscription at the end. That last line is perfect!
thanks Merril – this gave me the opportunity to try out ‘voices’ in a poem – something we poets struggle with just to find our own!
You’re very welcome, Laura!
Beautifully and movingly done, Laura.
your words are much appreciated John
p.s. I’m enjoying the ‘shimmering horizons’ very much
Wonderful interweaving of the voices and the layering of time. Merging and emerging. (K)
thank you for your feedback K – you have nailed the intent of this poem so precisely
This is beautifully moving and heart felt Laura. I admire the perspective of 2 voices, as if in conversations, face to face. Each stanza is very striking but the one that touched me is the second part. A gem to read tonight.
many thanks Grace for your kind words -the inscription was just what my imagination needed to set it alight (been a bit sluggish lately!)
I sense the genuine affection between mother and daughter; a wonderful gift from life. I appreciate their gentle acceptance of the inevitable. Beautiful extension blossoming from the inscription.
I really like your perspective on this Lisa – thank you
You’re very welcome, Laura.
Grief and time’s passage notwithstanding, the conversation continues though death has parted them. An evocative write, where the pain is raw and faith struggles but endures.
thank you, Dora, for seeing so much in this poem