November 17, 2009

Emily Dickenson - I am alive - I guess

I am alive - I guess

I am alive -- I guess --
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory --
And at my finger's end --

The Carmine -- tingles warm --
And if I hold a Glass
Across my Mouth -- it blurs it --
Physician's -- proof of Breath --

I am alive -- because
I am not in a Room --
The Parlor -- Commonly -- it is --
So Visitors may come --

And lean -- and view it sidewise --
And add "How cold -- it grew" --
And "Was it conscious -- when it stepped
In Immortality?"

I am alive -- because
I do not own a House --
Entitled to myself -- precise --
And fitting no one else --

And marked my Girlhood's name --
So Visitors may know
Which Door is mine -- and not mistake --
And try another Key --

How good -- to be alive!
How infinite -- to be
Alive -- two-fold -- The Birth I had --
And this -- besides, in -- Thee!

By Emily Dickenson



It is so good to be alive. Today as the weather in Texas finally feels like it should, cool and sunny, just in time for Thanksgiving next week. I am typing (one handed) with a sweet warm person, blanket wrapped, in my lap. It is good to be alive.

I am looking for poems that are all about birth and motherhood. I am telling you, they are hard to find. If anyone knows of any, please send me a link. Or if you have written one yourself, would you share? I want to read poetic visions of this most beautiful state of being.

Here is one I wrote for Max:


November Baby

bundled against this new cold
more a reminder of the place from which he came
wrapped these past months
an early gift

he breathes without me now
he thinks behind that rapid eye movement
his body a portal for a life untold
footfalls to be filmed
pre-whispers written

here I am again in love with the
necessary curling of limbs
the soft skull
it’s delicate hollow unfilled,
unfocused eyes,
mind not yet made up
on whether he likes the cold
his mother’s cradle, brown blankets
blue soother, bassinet, bouncy seat

the stroller waiting outside
to take him to new places
to the gate at the end of the drive.

6 comments:

  1. Shona, What a beautiful poem and and even more exquisite picture! I have a very special poem I wrote when Rebekah was born. I was feeling overcome with the miracle of her sweetness and at the same time felt overwhelmed by the magnitude of the responsibility the Lord had given me...somehow, with three children it seemed more 'real'. She was my first baby
    girl..hence the title..

    Like Me

    A squirming babe lies in my arms,
    with adoring eyes, so quick to charm.
    chubby cheeks, a precious pout,
    capricious curls, legs, short and stout.

    She's a miracle in every way,
    like a flower blooming day by day.
    A gift from God, yet just a loan,
    since a baby's soul one cannot own.

    Though I teach and train so carefully,
    I find instead, she's watching me.
    How much like Jesus, I must be,
    if a Godly child I hope to see.

    As our days wing by in rapid flight,
    I pray for God's grace to be,
    a living light..a beacon bright,
    for a child who'll be...so much...k

    Like me..

    by Donna C. Rodgers
    Nov. 1990

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wow! Both yours and Donna's poems are very moving.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Shona,

    I was re-reading your post and just realized that YOU wrote that other poem about Max! I really love it! It's very 'present' in the moment.

    By the way, I'm working on getting all my mothering songs on my song blog www.songsofhome.blogspot.com I just figured out to get "Let your children dream" uploaded on youtube. I'm going to try to figure out how to get it on the blog. At least, I can put all the words on the blog for all of my songs. You might like some of them.

    Donna

    ReplyDelete
  4. Okay. Shona. I just wrote a poem just this minute after you asked if anyone had any. So here it is.

    Sweet Angel

    Little one, My Angel,
    How soundly you do sleep.

    You are a sight to behold;
    and as I hold you, my heart takes a leap.

    I am so very blessed
    that you have been entrusted to my care.

    I know that you will be watching me,
    of that I am very aware.

    So I ask God to live through me
    so that you can grow to become
    all that you can be.

    By Trudy Callan
    November 2009

    ReplyDelete
  5. ...so many blessings!!!...

    ReplyDelete
  6. No poetry here.
    Love that photo of your wee babe.
    *sigh*
    Makes me look forward to our new grand coming in the spring...
    That sweet baby smell....

    Blessings this day,
    Dawn @ 4:53 am

    ReplyDelete

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