The uncertainty of a blindly drawn line, the discernment of a picture, the writing of a story in poem form... all somehow give me balance as I start my day. Sometimes I start it and am not be able to continue until later in the day. Not liking those so much, but still it is something to look forward to every day.
I know many of you have seen these posted on FB, but some have not. Here are a couple to give you an idea of what I'm doing. I took a break in June. Life got very busy and uncertain - more uncertain than it already was - as I prepared to travel to Maine to help care for my dying sister. I did not know how long I would be here in Maine. She died three days after my arrival, and COVID19 made it an interesting funeral with close friends and family gathering at the grave site or checking in on ZOOM.
A month before her death, before I knew she was in her last days, I wrote this. Although it is not really a squiggle, it is based on the way I do them. The balloon is a story from our lives that I recounted at the funeral. It's kind of a floating poem...
Blue Balloon
It bobbed a bit, then left her grasp;
Away, away it lifted.
Rising high she felt a tear
As far, too far it drifted.
She should have tied it tight and fast
Too late, so late to think of that -
Escaping on the evening breeze
So blue, a true blue acrobat.
She watched it soar to clouds aloft
And touch, just touch day lingering
She felt a string wrap round her wrist
And fasten fast, deft fingering
The eldest relinquished her balloon
And calmly calmed with whisper.
She gave away her own of red
In love, love for small sister.
By Donna JT Smith, 5/14/2020
It bobbed a bit, then left her grasp;
Away, away it lifted.
Rising high she felt a tear
As far, too far it drifted.
She should have tied it tight and fast
Too late, so late to think of that -
Escaping on the evening breeze
So blue, a true blue acrobat.
She watched it soar to clouds aloft
And touch, just touch day lingering
She felt a string wrap round her wrist
And fasten fast, deft fingering
The eldest relinquished her balloon
And calmly calmed with whisper.
She gave away her own of red
In love, love for small sister.
By Donna JT Smith, 5/14/2020
I will miss her. We never had as much time together as we should have.
And on a funner note, here is a true Squiggle and a Poem:
Bopping through the field of green
Catching anything that’s seen
Butterfly, spry grasshopper,
Caterpillar - those’ll stop her!
Anything that crawls or flies
Can’t escape her wondering eyes
Scoop with hands or swoop with net
Nothing’s been too speedy yet!
Drops them in her terrarium
So she can proudly carry ‘em.
It isn’t very many days
Before she’s learned about their ways,
And then she sets the critters free
So they can hop from grass to tree.
She thanks them kindly for their service
Apologizing if they were nervous,
She only means to study them,
Not forever buddy them!
Every day new ways to learn
At every step, at every turn.
Wondering at all things true
Keeps her eyes a sparkling blue!
By Donna JT Smith, 7/17/2020
I decided to remain in Maine for the summer, staying with my son and a houseful of dogs.
Hope your Poetry Friday is full of Wondering!
See more links to poetry at Jan's Bookseedstudio!
Hi dear Donna. I am in tears over the first poem, so deep in meaning, you sweet sweet older Sis. The comfort of family collected in epidemic times, one way or another, must have been enormous. As for the second lovely poem shared - I'm so intrigued by the artwork, too. Did a grand draw over your drawing or did you grab a page already kid-art enhanced to add your nature lover. This post is a beautiful gift. And I'm so glad you are doing well.
ReplyDeleteOn my FB page I've been doing "A Squiggle and a Poem" off and on during the pandemic. I use "Notes" on my iPhone, and close my eyes to draw a continuous line. Then open my eyes and "see" my image. I fill in using the Markup tools. When the image is done, I listen to it and begin my poem. So that is why you see a black line "squiggle" in the image. I make the scribble and it works out the rest!
DeleteDonna, I cannot imagine having to bury a sister. After my mother passed, my sisters became my life-line. I'm so sorry you have lost her. Please be gentle on yourself and let the memories be blessings. You've bobbed and weaved through so much these past few years. Thank goodness, you can organize your thoughts into poems and squiggles. The Blue Balloon is spectacular. It's a story and a farewell together.
ReplyDeleteI've had enough valley...ready for a mountaintop. But there have been the occasional good rest stops on the trip where I can take a breath. I just need to remember to!
DeleteOh Donna, I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your sister. This balloon is simply gorgeous and so full of EVERYTHING. Thank you. Thinking of you as you move through your grief. And now I am going to call my sister. xo
ReplyDeleteThanks, Irene. I am moving along. Decided to stay in Maine for the summer living with my son. Call your sister again, even! You'll be glad you did.
DeleteSo sad to hear about your sister, Donna...how difficult that must have been, especially when nowhere near your home or comfort place, and in the midst of covid, no less. A touching, genuine poem from the heart. My thoughts & prayers are with you, her, and your family.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Matt. Such strange times...
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