HUMP Day Haiku
I've re-written a poem composed a few months after my Mom died.
The occasion was one of those "firsts" of the 365 firsts following her death.
Getting through the first year always seems especially difficult.
The occasion was one of those "firsts" of the 365 firsts following her death.
Getting through the first year always seems especially difficult.
I was living through the blue gate on acreage that was prime habitat for the frogs of spring,
so the first notes of the chorus that grow in number during the season
were right outside the door to hear.
so the first notes of the chorus that grow in number during the season
were right outside the door to hear.
When I stepped outside that night and heard them, my thought was,
“Oh, I’ll have to call Mom in the morning to.. tell... her......”
I don’t have a photo of the night or the wind or peepers or my hurting heart,
but only of my Mom’s final resting place, where most of her ashes are.
Some of her is scattered here and there across the earth in places that
were special to her or her family members
were special to her or her family members
I’m one syllable over 17; forgive my rule-breaking.
Following the haiku is the original poem from February, 2000.
tonight’s February
wind blows cold, yet peepers sing
can your ashes hear?
_________________________________________
a cold
February wind
blows tonight
and yet
peepers sing
…Mom…
do your ashes
have ears?
2/2000
4 comments:
Oh that is beautiful Kim. Love that and yes I believe they have ears. I also beleive that when a monarch butterly comes to your yard, it is the spirit of loved ones now gone. Prayer flags are another way of thinking of loved ones. With the wind the (cotton) prayer flags sway and that too, they say, are the spirits of loved ones now gone, but visiting you. I know it sounds too intense, but we have to believe in something. My sons ashes are buried in a beautiful place where other men/women who have served are at, and when I visit him there, there's always a breeze although it is very quiet. It's nice the poem you wrote for your mother, I'm sure she hears you. Take care.
Thank you, Gloria. My Mom loved her garden and the birds that visited it, so I feel a connection to her whenever I look out at mine. Last summer I saw a Lazuli Bunting under one of my feeders (I've never seen one before) and thought, "Who can I call to share this exciting event with?" Thankfully, Helen and her husband (my brother John) share the same interests, so I called them.
I'm sorry about your son. It's natural to lose a parent, but losing a child is pain beyond what I can imagine. You take care, too.
Beautiful haiku and poem, Kim. I believe she has ears and hears as spring approaches. And sends her blessings down when you see something that reminds you of her. There is so much in the garden that does just that. :)
Your poem is a lovely tribute to your mom. I am so sorry for your loss. May the Lord comfort you and keep you.
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