Bend

31st Aug 2017

In response to the cue from "Six Sentences" :

Bend

Two grandsons, faces set with pensive frowns,slowly, deliberately,  lower two baskets into the  hole in the ground as the rest of us bend over and peer in , some giving instructions - "mum slept on the right," and "they'll enjoy that  lovely view down the hill ".
I can't believe that it's a year ago today since that little scene took place on the day we buried my mum and dad's ashes side by side,  together forever.
It seems that time only increases the emptiness that cannot be filled, as on so many occasions I long to hear their voices or listen to their stories -  stories of our history which I know I should have paid more attention to.
They were the ones that kept me connected, always happy to pass on news of how things were with the rest of the family.
 All too soon the chances are taken from us and there is a gaping chasm that cannot be filled or covered over.
Maybe with time it will lose it's importance and certainly we become the older generation who pass on wisdom to the one below.
Although  I really don't feel up to the task of being the "elder", I know that from me the younger ones will learn about their roots and the people that make them up, so the cycle will continue.

Go This Way

Day 3:

 3rd April 3rd poem.

Was inspired today by a walk along the coast . We took a path from the beach up a pretty winding staircase. Each turn gave a different, yet  interesting view which  made me reflect the path our lives take. Not sure I've done justice to it in this poem.

Go This Way

Go this way, tread these winding steps,

                                    Up this steep slope.

                                                     Stop here, rest,

                                                                      Take in the view,

                                                                                     The castle - almost ruins

                                                                                                     Glory days over.

                                                                                     Carry on up, round that blind  bend,

                                                              See the lake- veiled in mist,  

                                                Joys hidden in shrouded past

            Struggle further,up  towards the peak,

                                                   Breathless,

                                                               The path narrows, stones underfoot slow progress
                                                                                  
                                                                           Turn, see the valley

                                                                                            Deep, dark,

                                                                                 Holding lost moments of gloom.

                                                                                                 But now, for you, up, up, 

                                                                               Crawl on to the summit,

                                                       Lift yourself up,

                        Stand, breathe deep

     Look around,

                                      All before you takes shape

                                                             Holds together.