Letting Go
Yesterday and tomorrow
are acquainted with today,
where youth stands
with feet firmly planted
watching destiny gallop forward,
apathetic of bygone days;
and I, aged and wise,
watch yesterday's ripples
interplay about my feet,
realize how unpredictable,
dreams can be.
My hand grasps her wrist
warning of my fears,
but she, entranced with the sunrise
doesn't turn toward me,
resists the connection,
and I let go,
as all mothers must.
by Margaret Bednar 12-30-2012
This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's "Mary's Mixed Bag - Connection". I will be back tonight to read and enjoy visiting all of your poems and posts! I'm a bit behind - these kids are keeping me hopping (wish I could say young).
15 comments:
One person's future and another person's past: is it a weak link?
Those last three stanzas are strong and bold and true. Nothing wasted, nothing left unsaid. As the mother of three adult children, I certainly relate.
What a poem you have written here. It's so true; I loved "she, entranced with the sunrise" and "apathetic of bygone days." It reminds me of an old Cat Stevens song called "Father & Son". The gender is different, but the dynamic of the song is the same as in your poem.
Very Nice poem Margaret,
I hear you with the connection between yesterday, today, and tomorrow. And sometimes, i think, we have to accept when someone resists a connection for a time...but they will come around again, I truly believe.
Oh I so know the feeling.........we worry so much about them. The bad news: it never stops. The good news: it never stops.We're forever Moms:)
You and I are feeling the mother connection today! This is beautiful.
Lovely, lovely. Ah yes mothers must all let go. Beautiful photo too.
But it is still connection: you to all mothering, the gesture of letting go which will keep you connected more than if the hand retained the wrist! Beautifully written and beautiful photo.
Yes ... the last line is so beautiful ... well said !!!
Letting them go is the hardest part.
this makes me feel all sniffly & stuff.
A tender moment of the progression of life...beautiful
That truly is a wonderful poem. It's so hard to let go when it's time.
As one of 8 kids myself, Margaret, I can just imagine! I don't know how Mom did it...or you!
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