in the days before passwords
kept secrets in a cloud.
Did she think
she was permanent
as ink,
as ink,
able to forever hide on paper
those things she dared not speak?
Or did she suspect, expect
time to be like a pencil eraser,
leaving only tracks of dusty particles
to be blown away the way
disease blew her mind
into space?
Were those notes reminders of herself
to herself, or were they her way
of revealing hidden truths?
I found her scribbles
after she was dead.
Her notes, her secrets, her motives revealed
no longer matter,
though I discovered facts
I never knew.
though I discovered facts
I never knew.
But did she know
her life to me
will always be
a beautiful masterpiece?
a beautiful masterpiece?
Indelible.
(For Poets United where Susan prompts us to write about secrets.)
such loving lines Myrna expressive of a beautiful heart...
ReplyDelete"I found her scribbles
ReplyDeleteafter she was dead." is the strategic core of this poem about permanence and exposure and erasure. The notes matter less than the motive which matters less than the love through which the narrator sees Mother's life as "a beautiful masterpiece." A truth my mom is discovering about her mother and one I will have to rediscover about mine someday. Your poem will remind me, because I certainly will be unable to resist reading her notes!
Peggy found her mother's diary. Her father had never read it, and he forbade her to read it, but she got up in the night and read it anyway, finding her mother's secrets revealed. I'm glad she read it. Her mother was dead, and her mother's daughter only read it out of respect and with a desire to understand what made her mother as she was. Peggy was already aware that her mother was a very troubled person, and the diary at least helped her to understand the inward form of her mother’s troubles.
ReplyDeleteYou made me think of my own Mother....beautifully written.
ReplyDeleteOh Myrna, this is such an incredible piece of wonderful poetry sigh there is so much that I admire here! Especially love "Did she think she was permanent as ink, able to forever hide on paper those things she dared not speak? Beautifully rendered.
ReplyDeleteLots of love,
Sanaa
Ah! This is beautiful.
ReplyDelete-HA
This makes me want to cry a bit--it is wonderful to have bits of someone left behind in this way--tender write Myrna!
ReplyDeleteHow beautiful, that your mother is remembered as a beautiful masterpiece. Having worked with those with dementia, I suspect, as you have written, that she wrote these notes to herself in hopes of remembering, as so much was slipping away. A beautiful poem, Myrna. How I would love to read some of my mother's thoughts, or our old correspondence, now....but my sister has everything and does not make it accessible. Luckily, I still have my own memories, LOL.
ReplyDeleteThis was superb. My mother gave me a very simple set of notes my father wrote before he died. It was a real treasure and it was insightful.
ReplyDeleteThis touched me deeply. My mother was very secretive and private. Oh, how I wish she had left little notes. Beautiful tribute!
ReplyDeletePoignant and beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
To have your children think of you as a beautiful masterpiece defines your success as a parent. A beautiful tribute to your mother, Myrna.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written...I often wonder what will happen to the massive digital trail we leave so gleefully these days...
ReplyDeleteThis is stunning Myrna. We should always be able to remember our mothers with such affection despite them gradually slipping away from us and like my own not knowing who I was.
ReplyDeleteI too love the mention of your mother being a beautiful masterpiece...I think those notes left behind are the hidden snippets of life untold until they are found.
ReplyDeleteSo true in any circumstance. What we hold back, revealed when we can no longer hold control. And how beautiful it is to discover our loved ones' humanity.
ReplyDeleteFrom the title to the end line it was like sitting with you gently opening those pieces of paper..allowing us to see precious insights. there is something special about a person's handwriting and the paper they choose..it conveys a more immediate sense of their being and soul..and also reflects what they choose to leave behind for us to know..it would be sad to think that will become obsolete -the way disease blew her mind into space - is such a powerful image
ReplyDeleteher life to me
ReplyDeletewill always be
a beautiful masterpiece?
However much others try not to reveal their inner feelings others will try to understand them better through other means. We will always treasure what we learn of or from our mothers! Very true Myrna!
Hank
Each family has its secrets and all of us hide many secrets, sometimes even from ourselves. Ultimately, if we love a person truly and deeply, we understand and find within our heart a place for that understanding. Nicely penned, Myrna.
ReplyDelete