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The Heirloom
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The Heirloom |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa 
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THE HEIRLOOM 1961 http://soundcloud.com/diana-van-den-berg-2/the-heirloom-prose As her fingers rippled over the ivory keys of the grand piano, her hands dainty and smooth and her long graceful fingers drawing out the joys and sorrows that Chopin painted into his music, she was swept into another world - a world of tall, melancholy trees and small chattering brooks, peaceful English meadows and wild cruel tundras, of desperate longing and of peace, of rapturous, painful happiness and a world of memories. “Time was away and somewhere else” as she slipped through fern forests inhaling the cool, damp air and watched icy waterfalls slip over the rocks above her in a long, silver line to dive into deep, cavernous pools below. Her first evening dress - a filmy dream of soft blue, her wedding day, and then that small bundle of joy that stayed for such a short time - all floated through her mind as the music penetrated her soul. She loved and hated, gave and received, till her heart, filled with intermingled feelings, was bursting. She could bear it no longer! Giving a low, almost inaudible sigh, she trailed her old, gnarled hands through the dirty water in the kitchen sink and picked up a broken cup. Owl (Written when I was 16) |
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Bluesy Socrateaser Member Elite
since 2002-11-07
Posts 2417In The Mirror |
Looking back can sometimes be painful. The optimism of youth becomes diluted with age until all the dreams of what once was or could have been slip beneath the surface and out of sight, but not out of mind. If one could forget each passing day and the thoughts attached to it, there would be no melancholia, no resurrections to bear and no regrets. But that's not human enough. Memories can be golden, even when pain and loss are so much a part of them. There was a lovely young classical pianist that never married. Music was her entire life above all else. She had suitors, but beyond simple indulgences she never bowed to any of them. In later years when much of the music had left her trembling fingers, she often lamented not becoming a wife and mother. Toils to fill the interstices that exist in the time of day was something she longed for, but would never know. A wonderful story your poetry relates. Each person has one but not all their stories are told. ...just bein' Bluesy |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
Thank you for the beautiful response, Bluesy. However (and I have no problem with this – just alerting you to the facts – smiles), there were a few points you missed. Firstly, I wrote this as a a 16-year old, looking forward (for a school essay, if I remember correctly, but I may be wrong about that). Secondly, the protagonist, did marry – see the third last paragraph – and she had a baby who died very, very young. From then on, it is up to the reader to fill in any blanks in any way he/she would like to. But thank you for reading and enjoying AND for filling in the blanks, even if you did replace some of the facts (giggles), anyway. Smiles. Owl |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
fine writing...James |
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Marilyn Member Elite
since 1999-09-26
Posts 2621Ontario, Canada |
What an incredible and insightful piece to be written by a 16 year old (even one as you ;-) )I found it beautiful. |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
Thank you, Marilyn, for your lovely comment. Not sure what you meant by "even one as you", though - I think you may have left out a word or two, but I pick up that it is complimentary.  Owl |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Diana...listening to your voice was marvelous! So melodious. Thank you for giving that gift to us. It reminded me of the elder poets...those before us, who were first graphed onto records...remarkable! |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
Thank you, Karilea. As I have mentioned to you, I feel I have lost a lot of nuances in my poetry-reading voice since I was younger, and that it is much harsher and monotone and boring now. It felt to me that I was able to do far more with it when I was younger and teaching. So, it was very heart-warming to hear (again!, lol) your appreciation of it as it is now, especially as you said, 'melodious'. Thank you. Beeeg smiles! Owl Owl |
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