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| Rene Foran |
It was nearly 90 degrees
in that cozy little kitchen
the smell of home cooking
had attached itself to every molecule
of every acrylic holiday sweater
her every effort to help prepare the feast
was waved off and redirected
to the family room
where a stony, silent,
football viewing Mt Rushmore
occupied the couch,
a loveseat, and three folding chairs
she wandered down
to the basement
where she was years removed from the circle
and miles behind the conversation
so she drifted along searching
where was her world?
where was her piece?
where did she belong?
she slipped away
from the fray
unnoticed
unnoticed
up to her childhood room
through the bedroom window
and onto the rooftop poetic:
" she sat arms hugging knees
surveying life, the leafless trees
spindly branches claw the sky
scratching for sun, to heaven they cry
psalms of wisdom, strength and grace
scratching for sun, to heaven they cry
psalms of wisdom, strength and grace
woven in November lace"
the air felt good against her flushed cheeks
and a beautiful sunset was now in progress
she was thankful for this
she was thankful for finding her peace
she belonged right here,
right now
right now
to this moment.
Peace ~ Rene
May your cup runneth over...
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that picture is haunting.
ReplyDeletemind blowing piece...
ReplyDeleteHappy Thanks giving.
Rene, I can't even tell you...this took my breath away. I was the youngest in my family by nine years and the only girl. My mother didn't allow any help in her kitchen, and the stony silent Mt Rushmore of football watchers soooo took me back. Left to my own devises, I made up my own worlds that were not so stark as the one I found myself in. I had two puppets I was particularly fond of--two horses my grandmother had made me, that I named Barn Boy and Pretty Horse Puppet. They had lots of conversations and adventures. Your poem brought my childhood back to me so strongly. I never went out on the roof, though. I flew in my imagination. Still do.
ReplyDeleteThanks for this. (btw, I had been wondering lately, where's Rene?)
How'd you get in my mind like that?! Beautifully serene but haunting too. LOVE the November lace!!!
ReplyDeleteAhhh...okay, you can let get go of my heart, now. That was excellent!
ReplyDeleteHappy Thanksgiving to you, too, my dear.
that was beautiful rene...particularly the sitting on the roof and finding peace....i can relate to that...and so i sit in that moment...
ReplyDeleteI'm whispering across the dimensions to her: "You're gonna be great!"
ReplyDeleteyes, exactly.
ReplyDeleteno more.
thank you for this, Rene.
I remember these feelings from my own world, years ago- too young and too old at the same moment. Climbing and sitting in the top of an oak tree produces the same peace...
ReplyDeleteHope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Rene, I remember like any youngster perched atop roof-top or a big tree. Your poem captured it brilliantly. Happy Thanksgiving!
ReplyDeleteLovely post Rene. I remember the years of being too young for one group, too old for the other...
ReplyDeleteI was there with you, on the roof, hot pink cheeks and fall breeze.
ReplyDeleteYou have a beautiful way with words, Rene.
Pearl
Great post!
ReplyDeleteshifting with the winds
When my mother was bubbling over with happiness her stock phrase was 'my cup runneth over.'
ReplyDeleteYour Magpie is beautiful.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Very, very nice!
ReplyDelete-- K
Kay, Alberta, Canada
An Unfittie's Guide to Adventurous Travel
What a nice Mag. Same to you.
ReplyDeletevery homely tale...
ReplyDeleteMy Magpie
has some awards/treats in it, have fun and enjoy the blog love.
Beautifully done! Happy Thanksgiving to you!
ReplyDeleteI'm loving the memories that is inspiring people's writing
ReplyDeletethe world of lace for the girl is so appropriate and the picture is breathtaking
Happy Thanksgiving my dear
Moon Smiles
Easy to be overwhelmed by others amid all the preprogrammed behavior.I'm too old to have that Mt Rushmore of football watchers around anymore, or anyone to cook for me, but I can't say I miss it one bit. Thanks for sharing these memories.
ReplyDeletebeautiful
ReplyDeletelove the line... 'they cry psalms of wisdom, strength and grace woven in November lace'
ReplyDeletePowerfully tender piece! Well done.
this was just a wonderfully written piece...putting thanksgiving aside, i could so relate even though i live in the UK...took me back i can assure you...thanks for sharing pete
ReplyDeleteExactly written words… nice one!
ReplyDeleteA beautifully written piece, haunting, evocative. The reader wanders with you, displaced, and, with you, enjoys the sunset and finding peace. Just beautiful.
ReplyDeleteLovely Magpie and I am so glad that the girl found a place to find some peace, holidays can be strange events.
ReplyDeleteWonderfully written poem -- the descriptions are perfect.
ReplyDeleteI could relate to this only too well, having felt like a shadow of my true self throughout most of my childhood. Like you, it was imagination and reflection that eventuallu gave me the wings to fly...:)
ReplyDeleteI love the dea of November Lace.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful, imaginative piece of writing! As a child, I loved my special dreaming space on a swing! I could swing to the stars!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful.
ReplyDeleteMy world used to be on the branch of a mango tree.
"psalms of wisdom, strength and grace
ReplyDeletewoven in November lace"
What a lovely line that is.
Ah, the wondering and wandering of a child during those slower holidays. Thanksgiving... no candy, no toys... glad you found your moment.
ReplyDeleteCheers,
Casey
Dear Rene
ReplyDeleteWhere was her world...lovely.. I enjoyed this one very much.. soft and melancholy...
ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya
Twitter: @VerseEveryDay
Blog: http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com
I was with her every step of the way in this story. Really, very lovely, Rene. Your writing has always been wonderful and it just keeps growing richer. Wonderful!
ReplyDeleteOh, this grabbed my heart. I was right there with you. Wonderful bit of writing, Rene.
ReplyDeleteRene this is breathtaking....i feel as if i have followed you on your journey of the heart. :-)
ReplyDeleteSo nostalgic and beautiful...
ReplyDelete"psalms of wisdom, strength and grace
woven in November lace" loved these lines.. dreamy and very well written!!
Such a lovely poem, Rene!
So you found your 'place' is wherever you are. Wisdom came to you at that moment. But I must admit, I laughed at "Mt Rushmore
ReplyDeleteoccupied the couch". I can just see the grumpy old man who was never allowed to be part of the magic and now, like you, retreated into his own space. You may have had more in common than you thought!
Much to enjoy in this Magpie. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteWell-written piece about the centering of oneself.
ReplyDeletehmmmm, I used to climb out ontot he roof over the backporch in my childhood home to escape and find me. This poem brought back those memories...I like the title too...
ReplyDelete