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Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
13 November 2013
Rain
It started as a shower
like the final rinse at the car wash
but kept going for four days of storm,
streets awash, flowers destroyed, schools cancelled,
busses grounded, canoes used on Main Street.
Rain a sadness
catastrophic, the loss grieved
such that crying can't suffice,
enough to demand deluge and flood,
a leaving home, family, country, culture, language
in one swoop, marooned in the unfamiliar
with no way back, no way to tend the heart.
Peggy gave us photo prompts over at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads and it's open link night at dVerse Poets Pub.
27 June 2011
Cemetery of Montparnasse
One day in Paris while strolling near my hotel, I unexpectedly came across the Montparnasse Cemetery with its many famous residents- writers, sculptors, architects, painters, composers, doctors, historians, comedians, musicians and more.
Jean Paul Sartre, the philosopher, and Simone de Beauvoir, the writer and Sartre's lover, buried together, for instance. Their grave is visited by young couples who kiss the tombstone at the same time for luck in love. Look closely and you'll see the lipstick imprints near their names as well as little mementos left by visitors.
Samuel Beckett, the writer, also receives tiny mementos, even notes. One read: "Still waiting?" and another: "I was here. Godot".
Charles Beaudelaire, the poet, is there as is Porfirio Diaz, a past president of Mexico.
There are so many untold stories in any cemetery and this one was no exception. The stories are hinted at in word or sculpture, by fresh flowers or signs of obvious care. One little girl's grave, with a child dropping a flower onto the grave, had a verse carved into it that ends: "The flower of your memory". My French isn't good enough to translate the rest. Even the juxtaposition of this young one frozen in time in 1817 now silhouetted by a modern skyscraper speaks to the finality of death.
Another grave documented a family killed in Auschwitz-Birkenau with only the mother surviving for another 14 years and the daughter or son who memorialized them all.
With the number of sculptors buried here, their various depictions of grief were remarkable and conveyed their powerful, poignant message.
Or some of the other headstone sculptures that told their own stories.
The couple separated and searching for one another.
The grandchild clambering for his grandfather.
Or this striking portrayal of palpable sadness.
This statue stands in the center of the cemetery with the word "souvenir" on it exhorting us
"to remember".
I spent a long time in this lovely place meditating on my ultimately short journey on planet earth and struck by the stories shared by my fellow travelers.
What's on your mind as the week starts?
Jean Paul Sartre, the philosopher, and Simone de Beauvoir, the writer and Sartre's lover, buried together, for instance. Their grave is visited by young couples who kiss the tombstone at the same time for luck in love. Look closely and you'll see the lipstick imprints near their names as well as little mementos left by visitors.
Samuel Beckett, the writer, also receives tiny mementos, even notes. One read: "Still waiting?" and another: "I was here. Godot".
Charles Beaudelaire, the poet, is there as is Porfirio Diaz, a past president of Mexico.
There are so many untold stories in any cemetery and this one was no exception. The stories are hinted at in word or sculpture, by fresh flowers or signs of obvious care. One little girl's grave, with a child dropping a flower onto the grave, had a verse carved into it that ends: "The flower of your memory". My French isn't good enough to translate the rest. Even the juxtaposition of this young one frozen in time in 1817 now silhouetted by a modern skyscraper speaks to the finality of death.
Another grave documented a family killed in Auschwitz-Birkenau with only the mother surviving for another 14 years and the daughter or son who memorialized them all.
With the number of sculptors buried here, their various depictions of grief were remarkable and conveyed their powerful, poignant message.
Or some of the other headstone sculptures that told their own stories.
The couple separated and searching for one another.
The grandchild clambering for his grandfather.
Or this striking portrayal of palpable sadness.
This statue stands in the center of the cemetery with the word "souvenir" on it exhorting us
"to remember".
I spent a long time in this lovely place meditating on my ultimately short journey on planet earth and struck by the stories shared by my fellow travelers.
What's on your mind as the week starts?
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