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Open Poetry #16
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Sunshine
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Listening to every heart

0 posted 2001-10-26 09:51 AM


She Was the Moonlight Sonata

harbored undulations refused
to surface, until
first notes

played,   s  l  o  w

building a deluge, as recall
jettisoned hard,
spraying former times in
varied tones and hues,
sounds splashing
in echoes of autumn leaves

the climb upscale of
Adagio, adulated, as loss of dreams
held dear, first movements being
all she had
on the paths taken

not until months after grieving
should have been
well grounded
but yet to begin, that sharing started

between a left-over daughter, hearing
the left-behind sister still struggling to
deal with their loss

aunt and niece, now sharing, eldest having
privileged truths as
livid acceptance of pending
extinction, the sister/mother having
vented Venetianed rays onto all past
wrongs which held court
still, hardened beyond recognition,
more bitter for having never
shown before

even as dust motes sparkled

now patiently, aunt
painting a diverse picture
of the personal connection
linking blood to blood

placing enigmatic shadows
into sunlit compassion
niece/daughter
sensing then, the deeper demise
of having never known
to ask her own
mother

of the dreams she had once had

understanding more
why some things
had been uniquely important

sensitivity now illuminated

as reflected through
inherited eyes of
her mother,

the why of, when she had sat
before her upright
grand, slender fingers dipping
onto creamy ivories,
having coveted the First Movement
as if it had belonged to
her

the sadness
the single flower between dark
abysses
outraged anger at past losses

now, she identified that
clarity which her mother
had emoted, having become
Beethoven’s despair
so well

for she had,
over time, transformed into
the First Movement

a revelation that
deafened the distance
but
defined the left-over
daughter’s resilience


© Copyright 2001 Karilea Rilling Jungel - All Rights Reserved
Startime
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since 2000-10-03
Posts 5918
Canada
1 posted 2001-10-26 09:58 AM


"Leftover daughter" What a sad term to use. I guess this poem touches me so deeply because I am the leftover daughter who no one has wanted to know for over 20 years....this poem had me in tears with its the sadness that seems to flow through it. A very powerful poem.

Love I leave with you whether it is in your life now or yet the essense of your dreams.

Mistletoe Angel
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2 posted 2001-10-26 10:00 AM




(big hugggsssssss) Oh Sunshine, this was so so sad, it made me cry all the way through! (sad sigh) My heart goes out to the daughter and her loss, and I pray that now her dreams can come back and she can hear her mothers words whisper in her heart the song she cradled her with when she was young, to heal and fill her heart with love, for she will always be her moonlight sonata! (sad sigh) This is so heartaching but beautiful, sweet Karilea! You have such a beautiful heart, sweet Sunshine, thank you for sharing!

May love and light always shine upon you!

Love,
Noah Eaton

catalinamoon
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The Shores of Alone
3 posted 2001-10-26 10:12 AM


Very special writing Kari, and I was relating it to my own situation, though its not about family for me.
Loved it,
Sandra

WindWalker
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since 2001-10-12
Posts 1218

4 posted 2001-10-26 11:17 AM


This was a very good read!!!!!!!
BSC
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since 2000-02-04
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New York, USA
5 posted 2001-10-26 11:23 AM


You've certainly tugged some heartstrings with this Karilea ~ wow ~ I can't even begin to tell you...  Bonnie
Gentle Spirit
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since 2000-10-09
Posts 13989

6 posted 2001-10-26 11:34 AM


Karliea, you tug hard today. The emotions so well versed in this are truly incredible.  Wonderful write!

On the wings of words our spirits fly....and our souls are free.
~Me~

(I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss the dance~Garth)

RSWells
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since 2001-06-17
Posts 2533

7 posted 2001-10-26 11:42 AM


Still time for a lilt not lament. Life's music being of individual composition it's conductor can demand with the gentle persuasion of the slightest movement of the slenderest hope of a wand the harmonious crescendo for a grander finale than a woeful dirge.

"Happy people have no history" - French Proverb

Marge Tindal
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Florida's Foreverly Shores
8 posted 2001-10-26 11:54 AM


Karilea~
The notes emote sorrow in this piece~
Beautifully and tenderly done~
*Brava*
*Hugs*
~*Marge*~

~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
   noles1@totcon.com              

Interloper
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Deep in the heart
9 posted 2001-10-26 12:36 PM


pianissimo

Fool, said my Muse to me, look in thy heart and write.

Martie
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California
10 posted 2001-10-26 05:37 PM


Karilea--How I can relate to the music you have played in such a grand and soulful way.  Your words took me up, like music, and put me down at the end in amazement.  Tender and thoughtful writing, my friend...and full of your heart.
Mysteria
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since 2001-03-07
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British Columbia, Canada
11 posted 2001-10-27 09:59 AM


"sensing then, the deeper demise
of having never known
to ask her own
mother

of the dreams she had once had"


This really got right into my heart Sunshine, the entire poem, but that is another poem.  Thank you for this one, and she thanks you too!

~*~  Carpe' Diem  ~*~

Mysteria
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British Columbia, Canada
12 posted 2001-10-29 01:35 PM



~*~ Sunshine ~*~

This was my Mom's favorite song to play on the piano, and your poem "speaks" to me so softly in memory.  I hope you don't mind me adding, Moonlight Sonata", "Pathetique Sonata" as it also reminds me of the softness of this poem and Mothers everywhere.  I have added this to my library and this one I truly wish I could have written.

~*~  Carpe' Diem  ~*~

Nightshade
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just out of reach
13 posted 2001-10-29 01:40 PM


Sunshine, Oh, now this was brilliantly done. This piano music crept in and wrapped itself around me, pulling me closer into your writing. Hauntingly sad on this bleak day in Ontario.  Chris

Life is not measured by breaths you take, but by moments that take your breath away.

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