Saturday, April 29, 2017

"The Turning of Things"



The Turning of Things

I often lost myself in Garland's voice,
a young girl believing beyond the rainbow was possible;
eyes closed, hammock rocking gently,
cat curled into my side, sang along prayerfully, quietly,
low notes almost a vibrato.

I'd hear bees bumbling about mother's perennials
attracted to the fantasia of color amidst arcs, bows, curves
of buds and blossoms;

my favorite the iris, or "eiris"
imagined the Greek goddess delivering messages for the gods
from the Underworld or souls Heavenward -

recall the day I sprinkled purple petals upon kitty's grave,
watched a few butterfly off upon summer's breeze
knew they escorted his spirit over rainbow's arch
as I hummed "once in a lullaby"

and sometimes a part of me, as I drift asleep,
goes back before the turning of things,
before my childish heart took a backseat
and I simply believed.

by Margaret Bednar, April 29, 2017

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Imagined by Brendan - Penultimatums: Voyages' End (Almost)"


12 comments:

Sanaa Rizvi said...

This is incredibly tender and evocative, Margaret❤️ especially adore; "and sometimes a part of me, as I drift asleep,goes back before the turning of things,before my childish heart took a backseat and I simply believed." Sigh.. beautifully executed!❤️


Lots of love,
Sanaa

blueoran said...

A finely etched meditation on those last, full, now lost moments of childhood. It's heavy and sweet (those petals on kitty's grave!). It's the dream we all had to wake from and remember always. Such yearning to stretch those penultimate hours of childhood as long as possible. Well done.

paulscribbles said...

I love how this gently moved up beside me , like a cat, and purred a memory of that time when we all believed. When we all knew that butterflying petals meant home was found.

Kerry O'Connor said...

Oh my, if only we had known how precious those days were as we were living them, or known which day would see the end of childhood. You captured this perfectly, Margaret.. so much sweet regret in the tone.

Kim Russell said...

That song brings back memories for me too. I love the way you draw the reader into your memories.

brudberg said...

That part of being a child I have almost forgotten... but you made it coming back.

Outlawyer said...

A very sweet poem, --I love Judy also and that song. An interesting idea that you seem to believe more without the childish heart. That's kind of wonderful. k.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh, ouch, this took me back to my childhood hammock days when I believed.....so much it Hurt! Beautiful, Margaret,

Jim said...

The childish heart is the epitome of innocence. "I ... I sprinkled purple petals upon kitty's grave, watched a few butterfly off upon summer's breeze knew they escorted his spirit over rainbow's arch", I loved the way this was written, as I read I could just see it happening.
..

Outlawyer said...

Ha--I did misread this Margaret--I am doing stuff without glasses these days--I'm not sure why, except I can draw better without them--but I read the simply believing as after the childish heart to the back seat! It is nice to believe simply. Thanks. And thanks for bringing up Judy Garland--she had such a beautiful and pure voice. k.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Beautifully described and re-entered. I love that phrase, 'the turning of things'.

Susie Clevenger said...

This is so beautiful, frankly it brought tears. I have so many storms in me. It is always nice to come here and read your words that bring peace.