Abeyance
I trace his spine with my finger,
along elastic-waisted pants threatening to slide past slim hips,
trace up spindly arms, over narrow shoulders to the back of his neck.
Smile as I flick my finger over wayward hair frolicking with lake's breeze,
Blue by his side, the pair silent; a rare occurrence for this boisterous pair.
This photograph, a treasury of feelings; of a young mother not comprehending
how quickly her sons would grow, daughters outgrow dolls,
how soon her mother's hand would be empty;
and the family dog, age, not able to keep up with his kids.
Shrouded in memories, I want to tell her not to waste a moment,
immerse herself in each day, laugh, play, hug them 1000 times,
10,000 times. Soak in still moments; dishes and laundry can wait.
My mother's heart wishing I could do it all over again,
knowing what I know now.
by Margaret Bednar, July 25, 2019
This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Sanaa's Challenge - I Like for You to be Still". Use the reference to Naruda's title in a poem.
9 comments:
Oh I so know that feeling.......young moms are so over-worked and rushed.........yet they still do steal those moments of snuggles and cuddles.........I never knew those years would go so fast......or that I would worry more over my adult children than I did when they were young and I could still protect them.
A lump in my throat, a tear on my cheek, my heart skipped a beat. I often feel like this, this watching them grow is bittersweet, Margaret.
I remember my mom so well, sooo dear. She pampered and protected me and spoiled me just a bit. Lots of memories I should save, and write of. Thank you, Margaret.
BTW, my three sons, none hold my ex nearly as dear.
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Oh my heart!💞 This is one of the most beautiful, most tender poems I have ever read, Margaret! Thank you so much for writing to the prompt!💞
This is such a powerful expression of a parent’s love, and regret Margaret They are so busy growing, feeling immortal, eternal — they have no way to comprehend how fleeing time is, and what can be missed in the passing. That regret is reserved for the adults.
Sometimes it's hard to remember that those times won't last. So take advantage to slow down and enjoy.
Margaret, this is so true. This is so touching, and that photograph, lovely.
Oh, how bitter sweet is the role of mother! I felt this in my bones.
Oh, I feel this. I remember when my youngest daughter moved out of the house. Empty and gone in a flash intermingled with my tears.
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