The Story of a Boy
how to tell the
whole story leaving nothing out perhaps in the beginning
just a thought or
no thought at all we brought you home
it was night yet
we were surrounded by light the tiny strands of golden hair
reflected the
light it was the beginning of the week everyday of the week
a good little
boy you grew straight and tall curious about this new world
always
looking under over beneath behind
you missed
nothing our lives revolved around you the little boy and his dog
but to tell it
all is to say they were the best of times the worst
you got sick an
illness that couldn't be cured you were hit by a car
you drowned i kept
you in a bubble safe beyond harm
for all my dreams of
safety you lived as was planned one day you died
leaving me alone on
the beach sorrow surrounding me today i cried
tears filled my
eyes tomorrow i will be happy ...because i knew you
May 15, 2015
15 comments:
Oh Annell such a poem full of love and that last line - so strong..like its author xo
Annell this is such a powerful demonstration on how the contrasts between sorrow and joy actually can exist at the same time.. the result is always both life and death never anything inbetween...
The healing is possible when we open to release the sorrow and be happy after because this is what is life about... love the short phrases reflecting the breathe...hugs
A beautiful story of a growing boy who grew towards life with all his heart, and the mother who loved him all his life and beyond. Such a loss, Annell, yet how I love your closing words.........to have had a son like Jim is like sunshine got spilled all over your life. A golden boy.
I understand the sorrow in your poem....such a devastating loss. I also understand the joy for having known him. I only wish you could have had him much longer.
Happiness is everything and this captures great emotions in a beautiful way.
Yes.. i too am only blessed with short life of a offspring child.. but this child only lives 51 days.. and known immediately from birth is his short life's fate.. and to know truly that the way we live.. in valuing life over suffering.. is sad as well.. as death is his only respite from 51 days of painful suffering in a culture that fosters selfish means of surviving over suffering and the blessing of death..
Ah.. the lessons of life arrive in small and suffering packages.. ah.. the lessons of culture never learn the truth of Nature set free.. where suffering is often as much.. fostered by a way of life that never truly lives a life... as full..
But the end lesson for me is.. i am fortunate.. life is gift.. and to live it anything other than gift is a curse set down up all of Nature's mutations that some suffer through and others thrive..
So yes.. the misery of a child becomes the blessings of my life to give to others to honor the suffering of that child.. and we.. no matter how small and suffering
are in this game together from birth of suffering or death
as life.... YES.. his life is worth IT and IT still lives on
in my eyes.. as well..
TOTALLY WELL..
AND ALIVE
IN
LIFE..:)
This is so beautiful. The joy and sorrow existing together and the reasons made tears flow. Moving and effective, and so very strong. Hayes Spencer is kanzensakura
This can be read so many different ways (horizontally, vertically)... perfect for the prompt.
This matchup is particularly good:
"today i cried
tomorrow i will be happy ...because i knew you"
Achingly beautiful.
sectioning it into three parts was very effective. Made me read it with pauses, gave me time to think about what you just said and visual the boy, his life, his death, your love, your courage...
the form works to fashion 3 or more takes on the same instance. if that isn't antithesis, i don't know what is. telling it straight is not straight at all.
an incredible beautiful piece... Sorrow and joy can exist togther... from the dark there is light... For me, art is the light that shines on darkness that is tragedy - creating something worthy of a smile.
This is incredibly heartbreaking, yet perfect for this prompt.
I can't imagine how difficult it would be to live this, to feel this, to write this...I am moved beyond words.
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