For the (fictional) series, "Edges".
His Voice
The Stopping Place
His Voice
The Stopping Place
When we began,
our bodies clung.
But then, sundered,
we walked away
on different paths –
sun and moon
(which never meet)
not more separate.
The piled lumber
outside my cabin
resembles a wall.
Like a drum
the axe rang,
chopping and splitting.
I stuffed logs
on logs, tight-packed.
It needed courage
first to walk,
then to stop.
Not the rough
courage of brawlers –
a quiet perseverance.
How lovely, now,
to rest here.
Do I think
of what was?
Funny – I'd say
always and never:
both are true.
It's distant thunder,
a rumbling undercurrent …
background, not upfront.
Shared via Poets United's Poetry Pantry #410
Shared via Poets United's Poetry Pantry #410
Lovely poem Rosemary ... thank you.
ReplyDeleteI so resonate with this poem. I know this is a fictional series, but in it you have captured so much I relate to - the courage to walk, then to stop, and the memories - always and never. Wonderful!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sherry!
DeleteThough the people and events are fictional, I can't help but draw on things I have experienced for the background – places, emotions, broad situations....
Yes, I think you have captured something universal here...the courage to walk and then the courage to stop. We know when it is time. And yes - always and never - I can identify with that too.
ReplyDeletealways and never:
ReplyDeleteboth are true.
It's distant thunder,
a rumbling undercurrent …
background, not upfront.... you've picked up the nuance so well and articulated it wonderfully... beautiful!
I like the movement, theebb and flow of this poem, Rosemary, in:
ReplyDelete'our bodies clung.
But then, sundered';
'the axe rang,
chopping and splitting.
I stuffed logs
on logs, tight-packed';.
and
'first to walk,
then to stop'.
Sigh. The two greatest steps, we can learn is to walk away from a situation and when to stop. Knowing, we have placed enough distance for the healing to occur.
ReplyDeleteI often think that the trouble with life is that you have too much good at the start so what follows is often a disappointment. However on balance the idea is to have more good than bad and be satisfied with that as others may have it worse than you.
ReplyDeleteI always think (now) how lucky I was to have most of the bad stuff when young, with life getting better and better as it goes on.
DeleteI love the axe ringing and the chopping and splitting. Also the image of sun and moon like lovers who pass in the night reflecting each other's light
ReplyDeleteI sometimes feel that it's truly incredible how a person ..place and situation changes .. I ponder upon the changes that take place.. the wisdom that sets in.. Yes we do tend to look back and wonder at the life we lived and the person we once were... I know I do 💜
ReplyDeleteI love that memories are always and never...how perfect and true.
ReplyDelete"always and never" tend to find themselves wearing each other's clothes, don't they?
ReplyDeletehow lovely the contrasts here and yet they blur over each other.
ReplyDeleteas you said, 'always and never'.
I agree with this observation.
DeleteZQ
A meandering journey through life experiences!
ReplyDeleteThat last stanza! What a great summary of a past relationship. Also, that wall of wood & the image of the sun and moon never actually meeting...such a sense of separation.
ReplyDeleteThis book is going to be a wonderful necklace of pearls one after the other. I love the paradox here and different but not separate paths.
ReplyDeleteSimply breathtaking! That last stanza is sheer perfection. A true capturing of how life and love truly are. This is a new favorite for me!!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful subtlety here, Rosemary. I don’t know the series, but I love the imagery and feelings evoked.
ReplyDeleteThere are 32 of them, of which I've now shared 20. The rest will come up at successive Poetry Pantries, or click on the "Edges" label for the lot. Glad you liked this one!
DeleteI think if we are lucky we can reach that place where memories rumble but don't overcome. Beautiful piece
ReplyDeleteThinking of what was is sometimes an exercise in futility, but sometimes is leads to greater creativity. What a paradox!
ReplyDeleteI couldn't refrain from commenting. Perfectly written!
ReplyDeleteOh, please don't refrain from comments such as that!
Delete