Seren
Seren
Jan 22, 2019

22yrs on. prolegomenon

I still remember

There were yellow
droplets on glass,
as vast oceans
drained of water.

Time slowed and stilled
I swayed to my knees
in an instant I was alone
unprotected, unprepared

Standing again,
I wandered between palms
astonished and stupefied
I wondered at a perfect sight
twinkling in my southern sky

Why did the stars not fall
how had the moon not bowed,
repeatedly sobbing, why,
but God never answered

A warm hand breached
the bubble encompassing me
the long journey home begun
quiet on cow I sat silent

---

days made of moments
scored my heart
a yawning aching wound
time can't fill, love cant cease.

About This Poem

Last Few Words: It seems I mark my time here in grief. This poem was just to purge the tearducks (for me). So that my submission tomorrow is what she deserves. The best I can do. See you again tomorrow. 24th January is her death day but this year I want to honour her memory with beauty and wonder of what was her, not just me wallowing in my sorrow again. I do miss her so very much. You'd think by now I'd have a handle on it. But not me. For Mum <3 RIP now and always.

Review Request Intensity: Please use care (this is a sensitive subject for me, do not critique harshly)

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: Beyond the Black Stump..Australia, AUS

Favorite Poets: Pablo Neruda

This user supports Neopoet so it can be free to all

More from this author

Comments

Geezer

my Mom, but it isn't so hard for me to feel the pain. My father's mother [Grandma], was my world for the longest time. I was the first-born and consequently was "The One".. When she had her first heart attack, I stayed to live with her while my mother, who had separated from my father moved back to Schenectady fourteen miles away. I was twelve. I had her all to myself for about eight months, until she had another attack and then she went to live with my aunt and uncle and I moved to be with my mother. She died the next spring and I was devastated! I still think of her many times with great sadness, although it's almost sixty years ago. ~ Gee.
.

Seren

Its always been hard for me to let go. I guess if I stop grieving that it finally means I have to let go. I have beautiful memories of her. But I'm holding on to my grief its all I have left

Love and higgliest of bugs J xxx

Eumolpus

Today I could not find it on the Home postings, only here in the workshop...Why?

I read the poem several times, and I like the poem, it just has the right amount of very personal and very poetic at the same time. really lovely and nice work. Who among us has been so lucky as to not have grief like this? So it will resonate for so many of us.

A few things. Quiet of cow...wasn't sure of that image.
I am just not sure about introducing God in this poem. Maybe its because "God" is such an intensely personal instinct we each carry with us, when I read "but God never answered" it threw me off.
It introduced a whole other aspect of grieving. (For me, a radical atheist, I wouldn't bother calling, you only get voice mail.) I think if that is important to you, faith has to be somewhere else in the poem to connect it to such a lovely conclusion

days made of moments
score my heart
a yawning aching wound
time can't fill, love can't cease.

Lastly, I think the title is important. Why the period after "on". Why the lower case? Prolegomenon- I had to google to confirm it just meant basically prologue. I love the word but don't really understand it in relation to this poem. I would save it for another poem!

..

Seren

Seren

6 years 3 months ago

Mark and Eumolpus i

will be back later this morning to reply. Its 4.30am here and I've had a heavy last 2 days. Your commenta deserve a proper response.

Hugs Jayne x

weirdelf

at first glance I thought it was a medication you had been on for 22 years. But I always look things up and, with your 'Last few words' it makes perfect sense.

The only comparable grief I've had is six years old and not a day goes by...

I believe this prolegomenon will serve its purpose, written as it is with sensitivity and grace, and I believe you can look forward to honouring her memory with beauty and wonder.

Candlewitch

*hugs and a kiss to your forehead.

you are very well loved. Cat & eddy