The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #234
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com
revenant, fluctuation, justice, drop, pilot, sigh,
shaft, claim, bustling, engage, dismiss, roar
Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #42
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/
trying, shoes, logic, fumbling, stands, anger,
trembling, memory, father, knot, tight, untie
Poets United: Poetry Pantry #286
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/
Dreams and Memory
There are some who claim when one dreams
of their father, they are really dreaming
of a fluctuating revenant of God, trying perhaps,
to engage a fumbling awareness too easily dismissed.
Logic says that memory doesn’t always stand
in truth or justice. That it might even tremble
in a shaft of chosen forgetfulness, releasing only
a sigh of what is hoped to have been.
My Dad was my emotional pilot through childhood.
Never bustling, always moving with caution,
while dropping his quiet wisdom without a need
for roaring anger. I remember following him,
placing my shoes in prints he left in moist soil of North
Wisconsin woods, while seeking a trout stream we didn’t
always find. His memory remains a tightly woven inner knot,
a precious reality I have no desire, or need, to untie.
Elizabeth Crawford 1/17/16
Notes: I believe there are certain words that carry so much association with them, that they carry us along no matter the circumstances. One of those, for me, is the word father. Try as I might, this poem simply wouldn’t go in any other direction. Thanks Dad. I did use all of the words.
Image is one of my templates colored in India Ink and enhanced with a bit of digital background.
Love this – such a sweet and touching write.
LikeLike
You really work wonders with those word prompts… this one flows so poignantly. Nicely done!
LikeLike
Applause one again for the use of the words. Memories of parents from childhood are precious that time and events should not tarnish.
LikeLike
What a beautiful poem – and hadn’t considered how some knots form a healthy foundation..others a tangle that needs to be untied..father is an emotive word – however we experienced ‘it’ it is a commonality..we all either have one or don’t and how they treated us (or not) remains in the fibre of those knots..it is uplifting to read of this experience..to learn that goodness exists and carries on through the next generation..a cycle of bright colour
LikeLike
i never knew my father but i relate these words to my mother who has left me with love
gracias, beautiful words
LikeLike
a beautiful tribute and how amazingly you’ve wordled combining two prompts..wow…
LikeLike
I love the thought of secrets passed through generations.. Truly wonderful to walk those paths and hear the words inside.
LikeLike
That is completely lovely and heartwarming. A very good morning to you, Elizabeth.
LikeLike
What a fine example your father must have been, Elizabeth. And good to hear that you follow his example. He sounds like a calm and thoughtfully reasonable man! You walk in fine prints!
LikeLike
Beautiful tribute to your father – and wonderful use of the words. Lovely turns on the images.
LikeLike
Oh Elizabeth our fathers were made from the same stardust….
‘My Dad was my emotional pilot through childhood.
Never bustling, always moving with caution,
while dropping his quiet wisdom without a need
for roaring anger. I remember following him,’
This is my memory of my father which steers me today….and his memory is there forever etched no matter its flaws…it is the truth I believe. Thank you for this amazing poem!
LikeLike
This is just amazing work.
LikeLike
I wonder if my kids will dream of me? A delightful tribute.
My Whirl!
LikeLike
I can feel his quiet wisdom and see you still following in his footsteps with your own brand of quiet wisdom. How wonderful, what the word father evokes in you. It evokes very different knots within me. Though now I am old enough to understand addiction and to remember that underneath it, my father was brilliant and talented. Sigh.
LikeLike
very touching ! evokes a lot of emotion
LikeLike
The image is utterly gorgeous….I love it. “Father” has the same associations for me….definitely one of those ‘power’ words for me, too. How lucky we are to have that precious knot that we do not wish to untie!
LikeLike
wonderful.
LikeLike
I love when you write about your Dad. I remember the first piece of your’s I ever read, was about you and your Dad, fishing.
LikeLike
Those lines about following in foot prints, and looking for trout streams you might not find are absolutely wonderful. Haunting and evocative.
LikeLike
thank you for this poem about your father. very solemn and yet beautiful to read. I’m fascinated with your skills. remarkable.
LikeLike
A good father is such a gift to a girl!
LikeLike
Beautiful write, Elizabeth. Rich in imagery. How in the world did you use all of those words?
Pamela ox
LikeLike
I was led here, I think. The perfect piece that I needed to read.
For two nights I’ve dreamed of Dad. I think he is helping me figure out solutions.
LikeLike
Oh how this beautiful poem touched me. Looking back, I remember how I used to put my feet into his shoes and walk about the house. To this day, when facing a dilemma, I mentally put on his shoes just as you walked in your father’s footsteps. Your father and mine must have been variations on that pattern of quiet goodness, truth, curiosity, gentle strength, unflinching honesty. I wish I had written this. Perfect.
LikeLike
Lovely memories of your father, so well written. The image is happy.
LikeLike
I see this as a tribute to the ones that came before.
LikeLike
Thanks for visiting. That’s probably true.
Have a great evening.
LikeLike
wonderful…………….
LikeLike
well done.
LikeLike