Mirror World
By PoetonaHill
- 6694 reads
Mirror-world
A life ago my father said, “I saw
your plane pass overhead; stood alone in
wind and rain and watched you go.” I shrugged and
went upon my way, “Choose the way you waste
your day. I've hay to make and seed to sow.”
Then, amid the hours of feeding pets and
tending flowers, I saw the vapour-trail
bisect the sky, a tear spilt by the bluest
eye as you went out to set-about a
world I'd left undone – to sing the songs I
couldn't hum, and all my love was on the
wing in tender wistful thoughts of you that
day. My father must have felt this too but
couldn't say, and I, the one with life to
find, wouldn't pause to read his mind. I know
it's much the same for you just doing what
you have to do, but if we never say
or show how can the other ever know?
The one is always unaware as at
the other's heart they tear. My sorrow as
you speed away is full of words we did
not say. Maybe one-day you'll feel this yearning
too... in the mirror-world of me and you.
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Comments
There's a lovely musical flow
There's a lovely musical flow to your writing here again, and a teasing open of the father-son mix of closeness and difficulty of communicating their feelings, each generation.
My mother-in-law is nearly 99 and her communication is becoming increasingly confused and haphazard, but actually despite that she now is sharing more freely, and coming to term's with it seems difficulties of her parents' quarreling and separation, and her sense of loss of her father that she loved, (and her mother didn't seem to love), that happened about 90 years ago, and not only has she previously shared very little of it, but it seems to have had the effect of making her a really closed book in many ways to her family down those intervening years. Quite amazing experience, somehow I feel I'm at last getting to know her. And she speaks of at last losing all her bitterness (which no-one really knew about, but affected her ability to relate). Rhiannon
(do you realise you've posted twice, nothing on the first posting?)
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This is gorgeous. My father
This is gorgeous. My father often spoke the same way as the son - the noun before the verb. 'I've .... to ....' Eternal cycles.
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I loved this poem. We think
I loved this poem. We think we have all the time in the world to say what needs to be said - until we don't.
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This wonderful poem is our
This wonderful poem is our Facebook/Twitter pick of the day. Please like and share if you enjoyed it too.
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Apologies Poetonahill, since
Apologies Poetonahill, since making it pick of the day, it has somehow changed the format. Also, please feel free to change the picture to one of your choice.
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Wonderful - particularly so
Wonderful - particularly so just after Father's Day. Brilliant pick!
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Wonderful, poetonahill.
Wonderful, poetonahill. Beautiful words and flow. Much more than a collection of words. I like the format you've used. Could have been form; didn't need to be. A really lovely piece.
Parson Thru
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This is our Poem of the Month
This is our Poem of the Month - Congratulations!
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Lovely opportunity to read it
Lovely opportunity to read it again.
Parson Thru
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Brilliant choice. I like the
Brilliant choice. I like the rhymes, how they're not obvious, they sort of pull at you like light on moving water. As the poem is moving. To start with all I noticed was how beautiful the sound is. But the meaning is beautiful too when I read it again and again and again.
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