"Natural Woman" Digital Collage Art "Covid Creations" by Susie Clevenger
Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse #146
My debt to
you, Belovèd,
Is one I cannot pay
In any coin of any realm
On any reckoning day...
~Jessie B. Rittenhouse
It was
freedom to know you
like sky is
to land
you were someone
else’s garden
but still
flowers within my hand
to hear your
voice was bird’s song
whispered among the trees
the echo of true
moonlight
that lit the
path before my feet
there is a
might in yearning
that carries
stars to distant lands
makes men
sail across oceans
where a boy
becomes a man
a woman can
bear more things
than children from within her hips
she carries
and nests the home of generations
from callused
knees and prayers on lips
It was
freedom to know you
like open
cages are to wings
you let me
find my voice
This is an exquisite poem, Carrie. The last two lines are marvelous. If we are lucky, we all have that person who let us find our voice and taught us how to sing. So beautifully worded.
ReplyDeleteLovely, Carrie.
ReplyDeleteamazing. this is a family hymn.
ReplyDelete"she carries and nests the home of generations / from callused knees and prayers on lips" yes, the women carry so, so much.
ReplyDelete'it was freedom to know you ... and then taught me how to sing' ~ incredibly moving lines in a lovely poem.
ReplyDeleteOh i love this, Carrie. My grandma did those things for me too.
ReplyDeleteYou were someone else's garden - excellent line in an excellent tribute.
ReplyDeleteOh, yes. Brilliant. "she carries and nests the home of generations
ReplyDeletefrom callused knees and prayers on lips" -- and so few understand that truth... certainly not the boys becoming men.
Some people touch our lives teaching us to sing . Beautiful piece
ReplyDeleteA beautiful tribute poem to your grandmother. She sounds like a very special lady.
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ReplyDeleteOh yes, Carrie, a fine tribute to your grandmother. I like letter poems too, haven't done one in quite a while. Must do. I wish my grandmother would have taught me to sing, I for a while sang in in choir and in a men's chorus but then after a move to New Hampshire the director there said he'd rather not have me in his choir.
ReplyDelete..
“It was freedom to know you” ... What incredible praise.
ReplyDelete“you were someone else’s garden
but still flowers within my hand”
Sigh. So beautiful. I like that this could mean a person is borrowed on earth from the realm of heaven—actually belonging to God.
This is so beautiful. "It was freedom to know you like open cages are to wings you let me find my voice and then taught me how to sing. " Oh, the blessings of those you find in your life that gift you with freedom stirs the spirit to soar. Thank you so much for this beautiful poem and for sharing my art this week.
ReplyDeleteClassic set of musings, Carrie, great! Grannie is a always a gem of a lady and a girl's best friend
ReplyDeleteHank
How blessed you were to have such a wonderful grandmother in your life. Beautiful tribute.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much everyone for reading and for your lovely words here. It is appreciated very much. <3
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