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Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Song for James, who got his first vaccines at 2 months yesterday

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Spring children
(a riddle, sort of)


The ground is old in the farmyard
and on it my feet stomp;
but never can I break it,
no one tells me not to romp!

But there are children who play here
who come back every spring
and break through the ground like sunlight
so it doesn’t feel the sting!
 



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23 comments:

Rubye Jack said...

I love this!
My most recent goal is to recover some of that lightness that I've lost.

Barb said...

Oh, sweet James - I hope it wasn't traumatic. (Usually, I think it's worse for the Mother.) I really like your focus on the last two shots of forsythia. Also, that wonderful shed makes a great backdrop.

LeenaH said...

Your backyard is totally different compared mine in this moment!
Many warm greetings to you and James, who is so lucky one in the middle of your love.
I was last week with Melli and Mikael and next weekend I will spend with children of our other daughter, who is visiting London during few days.
Happily busy :)

The Broad said...

I just noticed today that our forsythia is starting to bloom. How lovely to see yours looking so lovely as Spring has sprung!

Vagabonde said...

Little ones grow so fast. We are seeing our newest grandson – he has changed so much since January – he is 8 months old already. The trees have beautiful blossoms – pink is the color everywhere. I just finished reading two books on raising children, one is called “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” which is scary – the Chinese way. The other is called “Bringing up Bebe” the way to raise children the French way – quite a difference. You may enjoy reading both too.

rippleeffects said...

Love the beautiful photos ... signs of spring and new life. With James in your lives, I can see those three words on your sidebar to be so apt: love, light, life. I'm happy for you all. ;)

Matt D said...

Absolutely beautiful!

Ruth said...

Thanks, Rubye, I love your goal!

Barb, thanks, I'm glad you like the shots. As for James, he had a bad moment, then fever and soreness, but he still smiled and giggled at his mama.

Leena, seeing your snow is certainly a far cry from this summer weather. Big hugs to Melli and Mikael. :-)

The Broad, thank you. It's beautiful, but worrisome this hot so early.

Vagabonde, I keep telling Don that this weather here is like Atlanta. Thanks for the book recs, and have fun with your grandson, wow, growing too fast!

Thanks, Arti, so much for sharing our joy.

Thanks, Matt!

blueoran said...

I thought your blog would be filled with poems like these after your grandson's birth, yet the awakening seems to have coursed over a much wider delta. Maybe you're trying to figure out the angle of the nib when grandmother speaks to grandson -- a new relation, even a different poetic. This riddle of a lullaby I think raises those conundrums, where the voice is personal yet collective, from the heart of the nature of the art. New beginnings from surprising sources, breaking "through the ground like sunlight / so it doesn't feel the sting." Amen. - Brendan

Ruth said...

Thanks, Brendan. It's been a surprise to me, too, that my poems have gone in directions that seem to be away from the maternal (grandmaternal). But I think you're right, that the ground has been tilled more broadly. Truthfully, the maternal is almost too intense to write about, if that makes any sense, though this is light verse, after the gloom of the last post. Sounds like I haven't figured it out analytically yet. :-)

blueoran said...

I can understand that about the feelings being too intense to write about. They'll probably ripple out. All the varied poems of late may be just those ripples, jots of intense feeling spreading across the world. Whatever it is, stay with it - B

hedgewitch said...

Charming Ruth. One of the benefits of grandparenthood is rediscovering the connection to our own young hearts, which we have covered up so completely with the soils and tillings of adulthood--to be here just to enjoy and play, and learn at least some of our lessons laughing instead of crying--how much fun it is to find that again.

erin said...

your love and celebration of james and life are sweet balm to some of the hard circumstances of this life. (i just read an article about recent events in france. i also just read a post by william here http://recently-banned-literature.blogspot.com/2012/03/like-unto-ourselves.html

(your video link the other day calmed me but it is not eternal life, i think, but rather the finding of real value inside of this one short life.)

xo
erin

Margaret said...

Children romping upon the earth... I love it. Let them stomp, let them get dirty! :)

Sandy said...

Time has passed quickly. I imagine he is adorable - as cute or cuter than when he was newborn.

Beautiful poem.

Deslilas said...

How lucky to have such grand-parents !
And to be allowed to know them, hear them and exchange...

Ruth said...

Brendan, I agree with you completely. Thank you.

Hedge, you are quite right about that! Grandparenthood is a sifter of what is important. Well aging is altogether, I find.

erin, oh thank you for sharing William's piece. Yes. Yes! "Like us, our ancestors finally understood that our work is here, and our life is now. Love." As for the video, you make such a good point: it isn't how long we live, but how we live. xo

Ruth said...

Margaret, it's great to see you! I was just day before yesterday wondering where you'd gone and when you might return! And yes, this little riddle poem is about the daffodils and forsythia children who slide up through that dirt and mud so effortless, and still look clean, and YELLOW! :-)

Sandy, great to see you! Thank you for these kind visits and catching up. I know that you well understand the joys of grandparenting.

Bonjour, Deslilas! We are ecstatic, and yes, he is fortunate. I did not know any of my grandparents!

Marcie said...

I can imagine I hear you singing to him..as he screams in surprise of those first shots.

Jeanie said...

How wonderful they come back every spring so you don't feel the sting! Who wouldn't want to come back every spring to that glorious forsythia?

Margaret said...

I'm glad you explained that. I should always read a poem more carefully.

Ginnie said...

Ohhhhhhh. I love it, Ruth. I love the thought of James running around the Farm, full of life, free from disease of any kind!

Soul Dipper said...

Vaccinations - I wonder if he was grumpy afterwards.

Your poem conjures consideration for your inner orphans as well as your children who have left the nest.

Thank goodness for the ground!