It's silly
But makes me feel better
To engage in the absurdity
Of placing artificial flowers on your grave
Hope it's okay
To gift you something practical
That won't die
Though in time, they too
Fade in the beating rays
Of an indiscriminate sun
Everything will eventually burn
Memories of your life,
Flowers' subtle perfume,
That colorful, untouchable,
Celestial aura
Linger in my mind
Yet I give you plastic
Perhaps irrationally attempting
To prolong the melting of who you were
With who I am
Before we are both
Kindling for the ethers
(For Poets United.)
Happy Mothers Day to all (men included) who nurture and give of themselves so that another may thrive.
Myrna, this poem has such impact. I am especially moved by the lines about you and your mother merging "before we are both kindling for the ethers." I also love you including men, too, as nurturers of life. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteI think this little act of grace is perfectly appropriate. And touching.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely lovely
ReplyDeleteHave a nice day Myrna
Much love...
A tender piece of writing, of which, I enjoyed reading.
ReplyDeleteMost mothers of my acquaintance are immensely practical and pragmatic. I am sure she is fine with the gift you bring her - with love.
ReplyDeleteI think falling for the plastic is so touching to make it a bit more lasting... Mother's day is another day here in Sweden..
ReplyDeleteYou are not alone. We bring artificial flowers as well. And often speak of the same feelings,
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
Oh, man! Artificial flowers?
ReplyDelete:( vs:the cost of fresh flowers,in remembrance of live and in true life still growing,still active, in our hearts!
Thank you for making me think.
ZQ
An impactful and emotive piece. This grappling to 'hang on' to those memories that become more fragile and ethereal as the years pass, moiling on without 'them'. Artificial flowers speaks volumes about that yearning to hold on a little longer.
ReplyDeleteWow...Everything will eventually burn...such a sense of finality there and its acceptance as well.
ReplyDeleteTo gift you something practical
ReplyDeleteThat won't die though, in time,
Being practical is right, Myrna. After all it is the thought that counts.
Hank
Women are practical. I'm sure your Mother would approve. Sweet poem.
ReplyDeleteSimultaneously powerful and tender.
ReplyDeleteIt is the memory that counts not the demonstation, the expense of the memorial itself. We each must handle grief our own way as there are no rules.
ReplyDeleteSuch a heartfelt poem. The flowers might wither but the love never does and I guess we are lucky that it won't :))
ReplyDeleteThere is a sense of kinship and guardianship in this touching poem - sometimes we have to be practical despite what we feel is 'right'
ReplyDeleteThis is soo incredibly poignant, Myrna..
ReplyDeleteI think I know your feelings from your write. Thank you for your Mother's Day poem.
ReplyDeleteI have read your wonderful words several times Myrna and find a strange comfort from them, the comfort of their warmth.
ReplyDeleteYou were truly blessed with your mother, as she was with you.
Anna :o]
Oh...this gave me shivers: "Perhaps irrationally attempting
ReplyDeleteTo prolong the melting of who you were
With who I am
Before we are both
Kindling for the ethers"---so incredibly crafted!!
hugs... i feel your heart
ReplyDeletewas tough for me as well this year - first mother's day without my mom..