Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Castle

There are days when
I search through my mind,
like searching through
a dusty attic
for old mem'ries.

Thoughts swirl
'round in my head,
as if caught up in
a violent twister.

I question my very
existence and worth
as I wonder what
could have been,
had I not shelved
my words years ago.

Then as fresh mountain air
on the dawn of a new day
it becomes clear to me.

My suppressed gift
for words was looking
up at me through
soft brown eyes...
my daughter!

Her gift for writing,
a blessing from God,
is like sweet
fragrance of lilies
that intensify my world.

In my search through
more old mem'ries,
I backtrack down
a forgotten path.
One of fine milled paper
and soft lead.
And I wonder why
I ever stopped drawing.

Not long after
my first son was born,
it became clear to me
like streak-free glass,
that my artistic talent
paled in comparison
to his.

His talent is like
a rare rose
that thrives on
a branch of thorns,
waiting to show it's
beauty to the world.

Music reigns in me
and has spilled over
into the birth of
my second son.

His musical essence
fills my senses
like the aromatic scent
of hillside flowers.

Sweet sounds from the
recorder.
Soulful power from
the trumpet.
Ebony and ivory
played with grace.
Hard driving
rock...he finger's
my heart with
guitar strings,
in perfect rhythm
with his brother's
drum beats.

I wonder if my children
know how proud
I am of them.
And that I can see
their father's passion for life
through their eyes, and
that we both cherish
them dearly.

I pray that
they don't allow
their gifts to become
old mem'ries
in a dusty attic.

4 comments:

Adrian LaRoque said...

Off course I like poetry. You are very good with words too! Memories should be always the good ones; we can leave the bad one in the attic.

Vivian said...

thanks, Adrian, funny thing though....the bad ones make for the best writes.

Stray Cat said...

This one spoke to me like playing a C major chord after G major. Very pleasing. I can relate to the sacred journey of parenthood. Thanks for sharing.

Vivian said...

thank you so much, Stray Cat for stopping by and for leaving a comment. All comments help to know what poems to put in my book or to file them under garbage.