Saturday, February 03, 2007

'Who have you had to say goodbye to?'

'Sunday Scribblings' topic for 4 February 2007

Synchronicity in the grand plan
has left another note for me.
What did
Meg and Laini know
the week my mother's pulse
fluttered to silence in the night?

Other such scribbled notes I've found
still legible though washed ashore,
eternity
tweaking
the debris of another week's tides.

This very Wednesday
nurse Clare unlocked the room,
put tea in my hand and closed the door.
They'd laid a long rose
across the stillness of her chest
opened the large-print Psalms beside her bed:
'I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.'
A delusional Christ has led her to this fancy?

Or just perhaps...
commensurate in scale
to deepest bafflement at the stuff of being
hangs wild happiness to match her deepest longing.

11 comments:

ish said...

This topic was too unlikely a match. I had to have a go despite the current clutter in my life.

Liza's Eyeview said...

ish...maybe (or hopefully) the current clutter in your mind will say "goodbye".

despite unlikely a match..it's still very well written....

gautami tripathy said...

Interesting post.

"Or just perhaps...
commensurate in scale
to deepest bafflement at the stuff of being
hangs wild happiness to match her deepest longing."

Ah...


gautami
rooted.

desert rat said...

Eloquently put. I liked "God's throw-away lines", and I really liked the last stanza.

ish said...

liza - the 'unlikely match' is the nudge from afar that keeps me looking. :-)

gautami I visited your blog. I hear 'sounds' there that I'll return to.

desert rat Thank you. I took out the 'God's throw-away lines': Although I more than suspect the truth of that, it seemed like a conclusion mid-poem, prempting the enquiry of the poem's direction.

Inconsequential said...

:)
Thats a cool poem.
Hope it wasn't too hard to write.

:)

Mike Mc said...

Nicely done, thanks.

Mary said...

well said. that moment when life escapes... it has been puzzling and haunting me, too.

missmellifluous said...

I often wade through the scribbled notes written at high, and more often, low tides of my life. They surprise me and almost seem written by another person. Unlike you, I have not the courage to share them. Your 'scribbled notes' encourage me though. There is a truthfulness about them and a profound depth of feeling. I am glad you write, even from the depths. Thank you.

GreenishLady said...

I am so sorry for your loss, and so touched at your writing.

ish said...

Thanks inc., Not hard to write because though I will miss her I do believe that 'house on the hill' is Home ... and what 'home' suggests about enduring retationships.

Thanks mike. :-)

Have you read in any Frederick Buechner, Mary? I love his take on departures and destinations at death.

missmellifluous I love the beachcomber image as a metaphor for picking up the little scribbled messages of eternity, like an etched shell or some such: What the tides leave behind ... and of course as you suggest, our own highs and lows leave a floatsom of notes too. And perhaps drying out and smoothing out the page (to extend the soggy note image) for others to read is a trifle foolhardy but in these seveal months I have only been blessed and helped by the remarks of others, including yours.

Thank you greenishlady. I liked your maths poem. Maybe I should try to squeeze in time for Poetry Thursday.