I understand that you have to use the weather for example to reflect the mood of the writing.
Hope I got that right.
I feel sorry for all the old people being lonely in this time (and other times) and what I love about writing is that I can direct my narrative poem and give it a happy end :)
photo by Jojie Alcantara
Found on pinterest
Found on pinterest
Isn't she gorgeous?!
Returning Home
His life—a spider’s dance on silk,
threads trembling in a sudden storm,
snapped by the wind’s ruthless hand,
winter’s breath seeping deep.
A whisper calls him back
to the garden of forgotten years,
fence peeling like old skin,
wild vines weaving their quiet rebellion.
In the soft shadow of the room,
a worn chair cradles her presence
mother’s voice, a gentle song,
wrinkles like veins in autumn leaves,
sparks kindling in sunken eyes.
The sun has just climbed over clouds,
stretching arms in victory.
His hands fold like petals
around hers.
Warmth surges into his soul
she has nourished him once again.
Beautiful !
ReplyDeleteThat's a very moving story about return to childhood home, and reunion with Mother.
Home looks 'tired':Mother, has wrinkles, sunken eyes, but her soft voice and his embrace of her, fill him up with warmth.
The woman in the picture could definitely be that mother.
A lovely poem, Marja, so delicately written. I especially love the phrases ‘tango on silk threads’ and ‘The garden fence looks tired’. I also like the way the alliteration in ‘worn warm-brown chair’ conveys the weariness of age, as does the simile ‘Wrinkles like veins in autumn leaves’. The sudden lighting of the room with sunshine is heartwarming.
ReplyDeleteThanks:)
DeleteSo nice to be back to our roots and feel again the nourishment and shade of the tree that was always there for us.
ReplyDeleteThat is beautiful said "back to our roots and nourishment and shade of the tree"
DeleteThis is beautifully evocative, Marja!😍 Especially love; "His hands fold like petals around hers/Warmness surges into his soul as if she has nourished him once again." Thank you so much for writing to the prompt!💝💝
ReplyDeleteThanks
DeleteWhat a lovely poem, and a lovely image to go with it
ReplyDeleteHappy Wednesday Vandana
Much💝love
Thanks,
DeleteMarja
Coming home to Mom, to an old, familiar place - what a heart-warmer!
ReplyDeleteEven the old can still nourish us in secret, hidden ways. Their wisdom is the best of food.
ReplyDeleteI totally agree and we should therefore respect the elders more :)
DeleteI wasn't sure where you were taking us, Marja. I was surprised that it wasnt with other people. If I were to become a widower I would want to live in an assisted living residence. If and I'm hoping I can afford to go. The COVID 19 may change my mind as it had hit the senior residences extra hard hear.
ReplyDelete..
Oh might be a cultural difference Jim:)My 88 year mum for one lives still in her house and wouldn't want to go to a residence as long as she hasn't too.
DeleteBeautiful, and poignant.
ReplyDeleteThanks
DeleteLovely words ....
ReplyDeleteA wonderful imagery given to us. You've drawn me in as I imagine myself in a visit to my grandmother long ago. Thank you for handing me this thought.
ReplyDelete