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Open Poetry #47
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Memorial to Time - updated
| Open Poetry #47 |
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Memorial to Time - updated |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart 
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Retell the story, grandmother, please… Tell again of a time without TV And through famine, flood, And terrible disease Walked a woman who stood her time… ~*~ Memorial to Time There was no weakness in her voice; she was 97 years, six months, and nine days of age; on that Saturday before Memorial Day prior to other Thursdays, or Fridays, or when ever two or three days before the day became the chosen day, it came to be that it was time to drive from here, to there, among the vast plains of Kansas, to lay the wreath, situate mums, count blessings that memories could be told and retold, and she was there, carrying the past into the future. For a life’s while then, long after being able to be able, she had reckoned on need and grace; perhaps someone would take her, someone that understood her will, and mission. That day she did not leave the car, but through an open window, against high and hot gusting winds, her voice carried to place the reds, yellows, and white mums, there, and there, and there. Then parked in another area, her voice was picked up again by skin-shivering winds, and brilliant under sunlight, were those memories rekindled like flame keeping us warm with her spirit that will always press on. Some tombstones over a century old; they stand still in list, bearing the time of Pioneer as she herself, seed of that very pluck.  Where the dustbowl occurred, far and after those millennia gone, and when all that once was, now under salt and time; when fossil in limestone can now be seen on monumental buildings; still and all, the voice of generations speaks in memory to all that occurred, and even of time before. In memory, lies history. Even then, again, was in her stories. Underneath the change of life; where the sun-baked ground still teems with earth worms rising; where robins seek the fresh of morn and cardinals seek mates; where wheat and oat, rye and corn still grow; and cornflowers beg the sky look at me; where, in the middle of what always seemed to be the middle of upheavals, between this Nation’s boundaries, The flags still wave in brilliant light on this Memorial Day. And memories were grand in one woman’s blue eyes. God bless those who never forgot why we should all remember. ~*~ © Karilea Rilling Jungel orig. May 27, 2006 rewrite 23 May 2011 In tribute to my Mother by love Mabel Jungel 11-18-08 - 01-27-2008 [This message has been edited by Sunshine (05-23-2011 09:58 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2011 Karilea Rilling Jungel - All Rights Reserved | |||
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secondhanddreampoet Member Ascendant
since 2006-11-07
Posts 6394a 'Universalist' ! |
REALLY fine !!! [I had not seen the previous version] |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
. . . and one hell of a tribute it is, Sunshine. Powerful verses seek out the drama and shout it to the winds of the Blue Pages. Dramatic. All of that and then some. She is smiling. ~ I went to a restaurant that serves "breakfast at any time" / I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance ~ |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
Excellent! Ida |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Sissie...In some way that is spirit centered, I feel that I know her. Perhaps because she was much like you are. |
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Word Weaver Member
since 2011-03-06
Posts 437California, USA |
This poem is pure genius. BRAVA! |
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ice Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404Pennsylvania |
Pure Americana..wonderful words to celebrate "Memorial Time". Enjoyed |
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AlCowie Member
since 2011-05-13
Posts 92London, UK |
Sparkly, a great story. I love to hear the memories of older generations, it is sad that so few think their stories are worth telling and we lose that wonderful knowledge. |
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Paul Wilson
since 2002-07-07
Posts 4711United States |
Karilea...Wonderful poem. I would have loved to experience all that she did...Paul ~~To share my poems with you is to share my heart with you~~ Paul |
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vandana
since 1999-10-22
Posts 10463USA |
enjoyed  |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Poets, thank you. She was a marvelous woman, and continued to share her many and multi-talented gifts...listening was chief among them.  Enjoy your holiday! |
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Magnus
since 2001-10-10
Posts 14135South Carolina, USA |
Most touching...thanx Sun....hope you are well |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas |
Could have sworn I had responded to this previously...but... anyway...wonderful piece, my friend, the world needs many more like her. j. |
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Brian James Member
since 2005-06-26
Posts 147Winnipeg |
I just low how the form of this poem matches the substance so well. It almost reads like prose poetry. Easy-flowing, silent, solemn, like a person telling a story to future generations. And that's exactly what it is, isn't it? I loved, loved, loved the imagery of renewal and permanence, of how fragile but resilient a thing is history. Especially these lines... quote: quote: The memory will live on, because we will keep telling stories, they will keep crawling out of us like worms from the earth. Gorgeous poetry, Karilea. Glad I got to read it. Hope you have a nice week. Brian "To me, the thing that art does for life is to clean it, to strip it to form." |
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Duck1946 Member
since 2011-05-16
Posts 84Nebraska |
Delightful contrast between life departed and the new life springing from the ground. Where would we be without those that came before and took care of their children? The only problem is that now I am jealous of your talent. |
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