Happy Poetry Friday! (Wondering what Poetry Friday is? Click here.)
This week, I’m sharing another Poetryaction. There’s a lovely new book by Nancy Bo Flood out called Walking Grandma Home. Click here to read my post about it from Wednesday. And here’s my poem. Although I wrote it about my own mom, horrific world news of the earthquake in Turkey and devastating local news here in Minnesota of a child killed by the person who should have been protecting him the most…those have been weighing on my mind. Although none of those people had the comfort of being walked home by their loved ones on this planet, I have to picture them being carried home on waves of love and peace somehow. It’s the only thing that makes such loss bearable.
And for lots of fabulous poetry to help you escape the world–or think more on it, don’t miss the Poetry Friday Roundup with Carol Varsalona, whose heartfelt poems and posts always offer an array of digital beauty!
19 Responses
The imagery is beautiful Laura. It takes the reader on the emotions you are feeling. What a special tribute to your mom.
I read your post from Wednesday in the link above and your sharing about having to say goodbye to your mom over the phone in contrast to the time we had to share stories, express love and gather around Dad before he went home. In remembering, I saw you and I on a walk; tears spilling from my eyes as I shared the difficult days…your words and hugs of comfort filling my heart…that meant the world to me. Thank you so very much!
I remember that walk so well, Lori. Being there for both the dying person and for the person left behind is a privilege but also an enormous emotional burden. It was actually an honor to get to share your burden, even briefly. Love <3
Thank you for sharing the book and your beautiful response to it, Laura. I love your thought of so many souls “being carried home on waves of love and peace.” I will keep that in my heart when news of the world becomes too heavy.
Oh, my. That second stanza feels like you wrote it for my own heart, still missing my mom after all these years, but at the same time, feeling so connected to her through literal threads as I sew a literal quilt.
What a lovely connection you have. My mom knitted, but only a bit. Quilting was her love. <3 You are certainly blooming in retirement, Mary Lee!
Loved your post from Wednesday and your poem today. I agree that children benefit from normalizing the cycle of life, having a literary hand to hold to walk you through the tough times.
With each terrible news story, I think about the children everywhere who aren’t safe or loved. The numbers soar! Your poem about your mom, its images, helped me reflect on mine, who might be off somewhere doin the things she loved to do.
Thanks, Janice. Hugs to you.
Laura, your poetryaction handles grief so beautifully. This can become a wonderful tool for teachers. I read your review of the book,left a comment, and tweeted your blog post for teachers to read.
You’re such a fabulous connector of people and resources. Thank you, Carol!
I guess no matter how long ago, we will never stop missing our moms, Laura. I still hear my mother’s voice when she said hello on the phone. Like you, our relationship became a phone one when I moved far away. Your poem hits your personal side yet feels generous to include all those who’ve had to say goodbye, like now with the tragic losses in Turkey and Syria. I love the idea of “stitching clouds into quilts.”
Hugs, Linda. Death feels pushed into my face daily. Natural disasters are terrible, especially on this scale. But the 15-year-old stabbed to death at a local high school Friday leaves me more stunned. :>\
Thank you for the “endless spool of love.” Beautiful! This book sounds like a perfect option for our church library. I will pursue that, and thank you for the intro. Best wishes for you and all of Mpls… my heart is always with children.
Thank goodness poetry is here when we are coping with heartache and anxiety for our world. Beautiful poem, Laura
Laura, your words bring solace in the face of such devastating heart break– the gift of poetry, yes.
What a beautiful poem and remembrance of your mom.
Love the idea of stitching clouds into quilts.
Such a beautiful poem, Laura. I was in my hometown last week and still halfway expected my parents to be waiting for me at the airport, even though they’ve been gone for a while.
Argh. That was me, Susan.