Monday Morning Musings:
Through thousands of timeless changes
she’s slept, awakened, and wondered when, why–
and if—whispering wisdom in the pink petals of dawn—
in the shining silver strands of moonlight–
as the tides rise and fall
and waves tumble, wearing down rocks
and towns crumble,
she sighs at the shadows,
sings a song of healing, knowing
it may not be enough.
***
These are things that fall—
snowflakes
raindrops,
cherry blossoms,
my mother, over and over
again, the text or call,
she’s bruised, confused
about what happened
yet nearly blind,
she sometimes sees
these things that rise—
the volume of a laugh,
the sun and moon
spring flowers
spirits
at the sound of bird songs
drifting from dawn-lit trees
in the lengthening days
that sing of hope
and the renewal of life–
there the crocuses bloom
glowing in radiant amethyst
now jonquils tinkle their tiny bells
and soon sunny daffodils smile
and say hello, always friendly
robins frolic
as the worm moon lingers,
and the mockingbird sings
an aria of love and longing
from a budding tree branch.
From the buds
come leaves or flowers
and fruit–
and so, an impromptu late lunch
we drink the fermented fruit
when other plans fell through
but the sun is shining
and so, we sip and reflect
and take this time
to laugh and talk
and then another evening, we walk
in the city awake in the almost-spring
despite the looming threats
it’s a Saturday night
we listen to the comedian
and we laugh,
even while she talks of hand-washing
she is funny,
and we needed this
we all need this–
my mother sees my dead father,
sometimes they talk
she asks me to see if he’s in the lounge
I don’t see him, I say
maybe he will be here later.
The comedian says there is no rainbow bridge,
her dead pets are buried in the ground, gone
but remembered,
perhaps we carry these ghosts within us
do we hear them whisper? I don’t know.
These are things that rise and fall and rise again
a baby,
eyelids,
civilizations,
hope–
blooming
again and again.
The only tree on the block in bloom, Walnut Street, Philadelphia.
No movies this week, but Paula Poundstone was very funny, and it was a fun night out, and our little date lunch was a wonderful little mid-week break.
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 
Poems are healing songs … definitely keep “singing”! (If it can’t hurt and might help … DO it.) Healing, like decline, is almost always incremental … may we all keep singing incremental hope.
Thank you very much–yes, I hope we do.
Sorry to hear about your mother falling, Merril. It’s a challenging season we are in, isn’t it? The tree in bloom is gorgeous. Unfortunately, many of our trees are blooming which isn’t good timing as we often have a hard freeze or two around Easter. I’m loving all of the bird action!
Thank you very much, Jill.
I noticed that tree because we turned the corner, and it was only one in bloom on that busy street. I really noticed the birds this morning–such singing as the sun was rising and the moon was setting!
They are so happy! We could take some lessons from them. 🙂
Yes, indeed. Though I’m glad we don’t have to spend all day pecking for food. 😉
Your mother as a creature of nature beautifully expressed
Thank you, Derrick.
I didn’t see you poem until now. There are similarities with the one I’ve just posted. I love the gentle rise and fall of this and the optimistic note at the end.
(a secret, don’t tell anyone, but my dad lived on Walnut street).
Thank you. Yes, there seem to be lots of ups and downs, but we have lovely spring weather right now. 🙂
That’s funny about your dad. This Walnut St. is in Philadelphia–and this section has lots of expensive shops and restaurants. We were walking around before the show.
It was Walnut street Philadelphia so unless there are several, it’s that one. It was a long time ago though, in the 1950s.
Oh! Maybe I’ve walked by where he lived! The street goes from Old City by the Delaware River and over the Schuykill River by 30th Street Train Station and U of Pennsylvania and then further west.
Quite likely. He talked about playing down by the Schuykill when he was a kid. He lived on Monmouth street after that. So did I, for three months 🙂
That is so cool that we have another connection. 🙂 I didn’t know you lived in Philadelphia (or I forgot–quite likely). I remember you said your dad had friends who lived in Germantown when I lived there when I was a baby/toddler.
It was an accident of birth really, the kind of mistake that never gets forgiven.
😉
Your mother is lovely, as is your poetry and the pink tree. ❤
Thank you, Rachel. I guess I’ll have to include a photo of my mom. 😉 To be honest, she was driving me a bit crazy yesterday, but I appreciate your kind words.
So much beauty in this write, Merril. We have to sing again and again.
Thank you so much, Katy! Yes, I think so, too.
Poignant words on rising and falling; a blend of personal, universal and contemporary. 🌺
Thank you so much, Janice!
Our moms are in between the here and there. Once when I was visiting my mom she looked behind my shoulder and said, “Oh, there’s Betty.” Betty is/was her sister. Betty had died two weeks earlier, which my mom did not know (she wouldn’t have understood, and why confuse more). But Betty’s death didn’t matter, since she was with my mom anyway.
Glad you had some fun in your week. We need to relax. to laugh, to dream and to love.
That is sad about your Mom. My mom is still mostly rational, but the time is coming.
Thank you. ❤
Always a lovely read, Merril. The time spent with your mom is precious no matter how much she is there or not. Wish she didn’t fall so much, though.
Glad you enjoyed Paula Poundstone… she’s a riot!
Thanks so much, Dale. Yeah my mom is in rehab in the nursing home area now–and there’s a good chance that now she’s going to stay there. Also–no visitors are allowed now.
We saw Paula Poundstone a few years ago, and she was good, but kind of strange. This time she was just non-stop funny.
Probably best for her to be in a safer environment. And it’s so difficult this no visitor thing, though completely understandable.
I’m being ostracized at work by one chef in particular. And we got an email from the cruise ship telling us a Canadian that was on board during our week has tested positive. I did tell my boss and he told me to keep mum about it. He’s not particularly worried (besides being short-staffed).
She is that type of comedienne. Glad she was non-stop funny this time.
Yes, my mom is definitely safer being where she is–as far as being such a fall risk. Scary about work and going out and knowing what to do right now.
My hands are so dry from my constant washing. I am being more than careful as yes, I might have been in contact – like EVERYONE else! Oh well… this shall pass. Eventually.