09 March 2015

Strange Dirge



"You pluck strange dirges from the storm
sift rare stones from the ashes of the moon"

You've always been this way.
It's what drew me to you in May

of '71. Me with storms in my life
that needed music and moon-struck strife

that begged a mining of sorts, a sifting through
remains searching for stones you blew

to life like a shaman, prelude to all that came after.
We mined together then and sang out loud until we crafted

our sweet song. That time the strange dirge was sung
over our first daughter you stayed in such a way that along

with storm's barrage and from the ashes, we rose, not triumphant,
but still standing, longing that phoenix might bring bereft

to some other incarnation, any other incarnation than only gone,
us left alone, two not three, with nothing more to be done.



Posted for Grace at Real Toads who introduced us to the poetry of Wole Soyinka, the first Nobel Laureate in Literature from Africa and asked us to use his work as inspiration. The first two lines of this poem are his from the poem: Fado Singer for Amelia Roderinguez. The photo was taken by my Honey at the National Orchid Garden in Singapore.


27 comments:

  1. A wonderful mining effort, Mary. Those first daughters do wonders for a man.
    I even permanently parked my motorcycle when Mrs. Jim's and my daughter came.
    ..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Have to tell you again how much your header picture reminds me of the view from Mom and Dad's grave on a cemetery hill near Herman, Nebraska. Almost homesick.
      ..

      Delete
    2. I was blessed with another daughter who has brought great joy to my life and who's relationship I treasure. The header is a view from our balcony here in Italy.

      Delete
  2. Mary, you lost a daughter? I don't think I knew that. You manage to say a lot in only a few words.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, a year before Kelly was born I had a miscarriage far along in my pregnancy. It was a devastating loss that I've described from my point of view before but in this I was trying to tell from what my Honey's love meant to me then. The lines from Toyinka's poem brought it rushing back.

      Delete
    2. I am sorry to hear this but I also had my first miscarriage a long time ago. Thanks for the personal share ~

      Delete
    3. It's something that has happened to many women but we don't usually talk about it and how it effects us.

      Delete
  3. That's a lovely quote from the poet Mary ~ I love the look back to that meaningful time of your life, with the storms, with your first daughter, with the crafting of sweet songs ~

    Thanks for linking up with Sunday's Challenge and wishing you happy week ~

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks for this challenge, Grace. I loved the work of Soyinka and didn't know of him before.

      Delete
  4. This is moving and really, really beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, MZ. It's easier to look back and see the import than to go through it at the time.

      Delete
  5. Beautiful pic, and a beautiful poem--your devotion so strong. (And inspiring.) Thanks. k.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It is always a pleasure to read the poetry about you and your husband--k.

      Delete
    2. There's so much for me to love about this man but it wasn't until I read poems by Soyinka that I was able to write about this loss from the part he played. We were both so at a loss how to move on but John just stayed present. And it made all the difference, of course.

      Delete
  6. What a devastating sadness and strong turning point - this is like hearing Amelia sing, fado is so beautifully sad.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Bjorn, for your response to this. It was a turning point for me as a woman, my connection to other women and for us as a couple. I can acknowledge it as beautifully sad now.

      Delete
  7. cool journey to love in this...and some nice spiritual elements as well...like blowing life into rocks...and crafting your song...i found mine in the moment that i needed that turn as well...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Aren't we fortunate? Doesn't it make all the difference?

      Delete
  8. i'm so sorry to hear about the loss of your daughter mary - the love for your husbands shines through so strong here

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. He's my best friend and I can't imagine my life without him.

      Delete
  9. To have that connection with someone is magical. I'd say he feels just the same.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Loss can bring two people closer or tear them apart. This poem speaks of the incredible bond you two had/have to carry you through such pain. My husband and I lost a son. He wasn't ours by birth or adoption, but we thought of him as our son. He was nineteen. I am so thankful my husband. I don't know how I could have gotten through it without him.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. However the children come to us, they become part of us and to lose them is to lose a part of our heart. I'm glad you and your husband found a way to get through the loss of your son. It's the gift partners can give each other.

      Delete
  11. Really heart-rending and lovely, Mary. How good that you had such love and support at a time like that.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Lovely if sad poem to revisit; your love for your husband and his support in the face of loss palpable. Thanks. K.

    ReplyDelete

Let's chat.