Belated Reflection

For Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #29
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/

daughter, rocking, words, wooden, needing, beneath,
halfway, slapping, glass, seams, breathing, crisp

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #221
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

weapons, energy, food, pick, transform, walk,
breathe, view, deep, practice, path, run

Poets United: Poetry Pantry #274
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

dscn1224-2aBelated Reflection

I am my mother’s daughter. Never thought I’d
say that. Her example has given me needed energy
to breathe life into this path through old age. Albeit,
I walk it and don’t run. She did the same.

Over halfway through life, she altered that wooden
role of housewife, chose to practice the one of artist.
Although her weapons were colors, mine are words,
we managed to transform seams of our existence.

Self-expression was soul food we picked to nurture
our beings, permitting a crisper, deeper view through
cracked glass of present moments, ultimately leading
to something beyond mere survival.

She slapped paint on canvas, while I rock words
on paper. Occasionally, have even borrowed some
of her hues, allowing us both to go on breathing
long beyond anyone else’s expectations.

Elizabeth Crawford  10/18/15

Notes: First glance at the words and the word daughter jumped up and bit me. Refused to let go. I have written several poems about my dad, very few about my mom. When I was young, our relationship was strained. Yet, as she (I?) got older, it was to me she’d turn when looking for answers to those hard questions. She didn’t start painting until her mid-sixties and eventually had two public shows of her work. She taught me the most important lesson of all: It is never too late to begin.

Image is a photo I took in my sister’s back yard.

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About 1sojournal

Loves words and language. Dances on paper to her own inner music. Loves to share and keeps several blogs to facilitate that. They can be found here: http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/ https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/ http://claudetteellinger.wordpress.com/
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22 Responses to Belated Reflection

  1. Misky says:

    Nice, and as they say, it’s in the genes. Lovely piece, Elizabeth.

    https://miskmask.wordpress.com/2015/10/17/for-sunday-whirl-221-octpowrimo-day-17/

    Like

  2. thotpurge says:

    A valuable lesson to be learnt from both of you…love the last few lines.

    Like

  3. I think I can say the same about my father… He worked with paint, and me in words. Maybe its growing up in homes were art is important, or matters at all.

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  4. Sanaa Rizvi says:

    Gorgeous!! Such a heartwarming portrayal of mother – daughter relationship and how we look up to our elders while we strive to follow in their footsteps 😀

    Like

  5. Jae Rose says:

    So much to learn from this poem – walking is always better…it allows us room…and words..painting..anything which allows us to be safely..beyond reproach..freely.. is often the key to opening ourselves – and letting others in..i hope it is never too late to begin

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  6. Snakypoet (Rosemary Nissen-Wade) says:

    I love this poem. How seamlessly you incorporate the words.

    Like

  7. Mary says:

    Ah, it seems that your mother set a good example for you, Elizabeth…as far as creativity goes. Interesting how one oftentimes discovers that we follow in someone’s footsteps closer than perhaps we ever dreamed we would have when we were younger. I agree with Rosemary…the words are weaved seamlessly. They are lost in the poem, which is a very good thing!

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  8. A beautiful, sensitive poem which touched my heart. Thank you, Elizabeth.

    Like

  9. It is never too late to begin.
    Glad you have begun when you began.

    Randy

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  10. Sherri B. says:

    Your poem is inspiring – I feel a kinship with you and your mother, as I also turn to poetry and art as a source of comfort and joy as I get older. Beautiful writing! Thank you for sharing.

    Like

  11. magicalmysticalteacher says:

    Oh, yes! Art in all its forms—words, colors—is life-giving. This is a marvelous poem, Elizabeth. Thank you!

    Four Tanka

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  12. Susan says:

    “beyond mere survival.” That is the wonder of playing with the hues and words! I love how you captured this truth here and brought a mother daughter relationship to life. There’s always time to live before you die. Seems your mother delved deep in all her roles!

    Like

  13. Sherry Marr says:

    Wow. I love this poem and the story of your mom who came into her own as an artist in her 60’s. I love stories like that. I especially love her message, that it is never too late to begin. You have inherited her artistic side, too, as your mandalas and computer art, as well as your photos, ably demonstrate.

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  14. you certainly rock words on paper – the creative force is evidently in the genes

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  15. there’s probably a lot of our parents in ourselves but we don’t see it or realize it.. i love the third verse “Self-expression was soul food we picked to nurture our beings,”- lovely!

    Like

  16. Oh this is gorgeous Elizabeth! Made me cry a bit for both of you, and maybe for myself as well!

    Like

  17. gillena says:

    Luv the comparison of mother/ daughter. Nicely written

    Much love…

    Like

  18. oldegg says:

    What a wonderful tribute to your mother and such an inspiration to others. It is never too late to find out who we really are and what we can be.

    Like

  19. Truedessa says:

    I think one is never too old to discover the artist within. I think one just needs time to practice the art whether it be in paints or words.

    Like

  20. humbird says:

    ‘we managed to transform seams of our existence.’ ~ what a poignant expression! I like the first two sentences as well. Creatively done!

    Like

  21. glmeisner says:

    Its amazing what we learn from our parents.

    Like

  22. This made me feel good to read it and the last words of your process notes were very encouraging.

    Thank you Elizabeth.

    Like

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