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What Else?
First you're born and
you're alive-
What else?
Over the years
you hear confessions
that you tuck into
your swaddling clothes
Eventually you wear them
like a fleece
of deep forest green
collar up
A cozy suspicion
clothes you
the way night
clothes the moon
And what is that moon
if not a comfort
in the deep blanket
of your life
the stone that might help you
remember
What else?
36 comments:
Ruthie is love
as the moon is not a rock,
but the milk of lovers hearts
"Cozy suspicions" are the whispers of past lives.
But João, stones and rocks are alive too. Their molecules just move very slowly.
Thank you.
Loring, past lives, current era and past. Good one.
Hmmm...deep...thought provoking...
I always envy people who can sit down and write a poem.
Beautiful...
Beautiful and warming - I snuggled right into the deep forest green. A cozy comfort moon-lit blanket for us all - what else?!
Nothing else...pitch perfect, Ruth!
I love the layering of this poem, like the swaddling round and round. And the moon, which has kept everything that ever happened to it--like memory, like mothers with children, like love; the wishing/memory stone; the goddess/mother watching from afar...did you intend any of that?
This begs to be read aloud.
I loved the photo of Peter as a baby, and then the one of you, looking up. Perfect.
Cannot get enough of the current "small" photo either. Confess I see the bugler more clearly in the "snippet" size. Clever, clever girl child of a clever, clever mother.
What else? OMG this actually reminded me Matthew growing, every day is what else, the smile, the love, and of course the cry if he really badly wants something, lol. Ruth your poem is so perfect. Anna :)
Beautiful poem.
I like that last picture... like an impression...a fleeting moment.
Ruth, so nice, a send off for Peter-a beautiful gift to us all. The photos are great. We all share the moon...and so when they are far we can still share.xox on this beautiful fall day. Out to the garden for me and then maybe paint.
Loved your past post, I bet you gals had a wonderful time.
A haunting photo that last one...beautifully correlates with your poem...lovely...
Very interesting. I liked your comment about the rocks being alive - so true.
The picture looks like you are up to some mischief Ruth.
Hi, Pat, it's been a deep week, and this is what I could do.
Shaista, "moon-lit blanket" - I like that.
Hello there, DS. Ah, such value you bring to my blog, you sight-in so well (that's my made up verb for the noun insight). I had not thought so much consciously about the moon as you have written, but I guess it is there in me anyway. Thank you for finding it.
Yes, the poor small photo of the bugler is busy and not great, but I do love that shiny guy.
Thank you, Anna. It is so good to watch you enjoying Matthew every moment.
Sidney, it's like blurring your vision, squinting your eyes to see unclearly. That's what I wanted, to show - unclarity, possiblity.
Hi, Cathy. I was in the garden today too. I loved it, as I was planting tulip bulbs. Talk about promise. Maybe you'll be inspired to paint something new from autumn's palette.
I actually wrote this just yesterday, not on the writing retreat. Thank you.
Thank you, Oliag. Funny you say that, I processed the photobooth pic at picnic.com, in the Halloween effect called 'ghostify.' :)
Nancy, stones have a special energy. I used to think they were just cold.
rauf, I had to create mischief by myself in a photobooth. It was embarrassing while people walked by and looked in.
Yes i have the whole series Ruth, my favourites, the expressions you made, i really got angry that a machine could take such wonderful pictures.
Ruthie, what a lot you've had to deal with this week. I love the way you express your feelings. And I love the "mysterious" look on your face! Very sweet photo of baby Peter.
rauf, your friends can pop into your place and get an artistic portrait. I have no such luxury. The photobooth was a pitiful attempt to get my portrait taken. I was surprised how they turned out.
EEEEEEEEEE.
Oh thank you, Susie. It's been a week to make me stop and take a different kind of look around.
This poem is deeply evocative and moving in a way I can neither describe nor release. I will be thinking about this one long after I've moved to a new task, a new spot.
I didn't know that was Peter, just as I didn't realize the photo is of you. Have I read right past family things, or come too lately to the blog?
No matter - the beauty is that even without knowledge of the personal context (and having forgotten briefly Peter's departure) the poem works. It doesn't scream "this is Peter's mom's poem about his leaving". It suggests "this is a poem about the moonlight that swaddles us all as we seek to take comfort in memory".
Some things are better seen by moonlight, after all. Lovely.
Oh! I forgot to mention that I followed the B.W.O. link. Nothing but agreement, here.
I was lucky enough when I began blogging to find this tagline on a blog I admired greatly: If I don't have anything to say, I won't say it.
After all, a little self-censorship never hurt anyone!
Well Jeanie, thank you for that.
Linda, the clue about it being Peter was in the tag at the bottom of the post. I have posted my own photo here before, but this one that is 3 years old maybe doesn't look much like the more recent ones. As you say, no matter.
Actually I was not thinking of Peter at all when I wrote the poem. A friend had emailed me a photo of her daughter born a week ago, and I was so struck by the hope in the blur of her eyes, combined with my own circumstances this week, I was profoundly moved. I was not able to obtain the new mother's permission to use that photo in time, so I used this of Peter. It does not have the power for this particular point in time that Elizabeth's did, but of course, being my own son, it is powerful.
I'm glad you followed the Blog without Obligation link, and that you already follow the concept. I have had the opposite "problem" in that I always feel inspired to write something. I have never run out of things to blog about. Strange, no?
In NEw Zealand, they use stones to massage you. So stones are helping things.
We are near to Samoa, so I feel more involved. Today, it is first day abck in school. I have students from Samoa and Tonga telling me how it affected them.
About BWO - the difficulty for me is not topics, finding something to say. The world is full, after all, and I have a "draft file" filled with the beginnings of posts - from only a title to nearly finished products.
I simply find it impossible to work quickly enough to post more than once or twice a week. Perhaps I worry too much, or "worry" my posts too much, like a dog with a bone. Or perhaps it's just my rhythm.
Sometimes I simply can't focus. I go off to work intending to think about "this", and instead spend the day thinking about "that", and "them", and "those...."
It will come ;-)
Ann, it is so sad. I hope the Samoans will be comforted, and will not lose their lifestyle.
Linda, I was pretty sure your difficulty was not topics, yes I understood, though I didn't explain well enough. I mean I have topics, but I don't go into them as deeply as you do. You provide terrific information and insight, always a highly thoughtful and synthesized article and point of view. I am happy for you to post just once a week, because I can ruminate on it a while. I think your rhythm is just right.
oh don't I love this...
....."And what is that moon
if not a comfort
in the deep blanket
of your life..."
such a visual... you are surely a painter...
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