These Things

old-fisherman-smoking-his-pipe.jpg!xlMedium

(source)

no tears

no crying

for the loss

where moments

lived

recline

feet up

pipe in hand

pondering

your present

worries

all your

woes

it knows

as no other knows

present fades

into

recumbent 

retiree

it doesn’t last

these things, too, pass

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Toes Grown

There’s consolation and some comfort in the knowing

That streets I’ve walked upon they’ll walk on too,

That rivers I have known, they’ll feel in flowing,

Their gift of life transporting, they the crew

Forever destined to new embarkations,

New destinations, some far out of sight, 

Predestined in unknown determinations,

Forked with choices they believe are right.

There’s sympathy and empathy in feeling

That those who venture forth to find their route,

Deserve the trust and onward love they’re stealing,

Travellers whose first steps falter’d, as I put

A hand to hold, support the risk they took then,

Determined but with dainty, tiny toes,

Kissed in days I never saw when

New shoes would grow and feet would wander forth.

There are tears that now the door has opened wider,

While heart is closing round the children grown,

Seeking yet to hold a little longer

Even though they, like time, have flown.

I’m counting heads and reeling from the impact

Of emptier nest while four will still remain,

Pretending joy, acceptance of a life fact,

That children grow. And I still have this to feel again.

Heaven Forfend!

Heaven forfend!

gasped gaze to stuttered winks 

ruptured navy sky,

bombarded stars with accursed dimming dust,

acquainted light with shadowed

silhouettes,

merged eclipse to one darkness.

Heaven,  offended, blinked sad eyes,

dispelled day

and bowed.

Hold On

Goodbyes sharpen sorrow sought in knowing,

Questions why and how death transmutes all time,

Farewells find pained pleasure in past knowing

Shared memories, now shrouded, once sublime.

Goodbyes taint the wonder felt in chances

Life would last and sad endings were a lie,

Farewell’s  truth, untempered circumstances

Lost, the fleeting moments, censured to die.

Tho’ goodbyes break hearts with swollen starkness,

Unsheltered from the form of wailing near,

Tho’ farewells fling souls to doom and darkness,

Whispered voices can ease our unshed tears.

Goodbye to fears and could have tales we told,

Farewell to grief, each heart the light must hold.

I am not a number…

….but today I was. Number two, in fact. Not the one I would have picked, as it happens, but there was no choice. I was not the only number two in the school. I encountered a few others. There were also number ones and fours and tens. There were numbers in the hundreds and even the thousands.

The whole school lost their identity for the day. It was returned to them at the end of the school day. For the duration of their time in school everyone was identified by a number.

The aim was to allow everyone to recognise the importance of our sense of identity. It was done to highlight Articles 7 and 8 of the UNICEF Convention on the Rights of the Child.

Article 7 (Registration, name, nationality, care): All children have the right to a legally registered name, officially recognised by the government. Children have the right to a nationality (to belong to a country). Children also have the right to know and, as far as possible, to be cared for by their parents.

Article 8 (Preservation of identity): Children have the right to an identity – an official record of who they are. Governments should respect children’s right to a name, a nationality and family ties.

When I heard this was going to happen last week I had an uncomfortable feeling. I didn’t know that I felt so strongly about my name. Yeah, I correct people when they spell it wrongly. An e at the end of Ann, if you please. And a hyphen between Anne and Marie. I know! But maybe we all feel a bit particular about our names. I’ve always liked mine. Never really wished to be called anything else.

I wasn’t really happy at the idea. And it was a very weird experience today being called, ‘Number Two’ or ‘Please Miss, Number Two’.

I hated calling the kids by a number. And I don’t even know all their names yet as this is a new school for me and I’m in and out of so many classes I might meet almost every child in the course of the week. It should have made it easier just being able to say the number that was on their badge. But it reminded me of people being branded with symbols to identify who they were. It made me think of how awful it must be for people who don’t know their true identity or who have forgotten it. Or who have had it removed. It did make me realise how important our sense of identity is to ourselves and that a name as well as nationality are vital in retaining it.

It’s not an experience I would care to repeat. But, I’m glad in a lot of ways that the children and the adults had the opportunity to see what it felt like to be nameless. A very simple right but one, if revoked, has huge implications on how we feel about ourselves and who we are.

There will be lots of discussion tomorrow.

 

This is well after the fact for this DP challenge. But hey ho! It just happened to link in with this post. http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/17/writing-challenge-names/#more-70813

 

Echoes Of A Voice

Echoes of a voice

From distant days

Relive the moments

 

Reminders

Of times past

But not forgotten

 

Like a song

Once played

On repeat

 

Again

The tune recalls

With rhythm

 

And melody

But mostly

Words

 

And heartbeat

Quickens

In time

 

A tuneful

And timeless

Love

 

Awakened

By echoes

Of a voice.

Far Away

Do you feel my arms around you

                                                            far away?

Need for physical contact to remember

You’re human,

A woman.

Can you feel my tears mingling with yours

                                                            far away?

Sharing your sadness and grief.

For the pain, the loss

In your life.

Do you know you are loved though

                                                            far away?

Human to human

Woman to woman

One love in life.

Close your eyes and wrap arms,

                                                            far away,

Around self and know that it’s me,

Hugging you closely, gently

And loving the humanity of you.

Know you’re loved by others still

                                                            far away

Distance merely an illusion.

Your needs are my needs.

The needs of the world.

 

Hugs and love from far away.

 

For Rene, especially. A very special lady. Fighting through pain and adversity with courage and humour.

And also for all who need the hugs. We all do.

 

Lottery

The door slammed,

Metaphorically,

But it was loud.

It closed all chances,

Betrayed feelings;

Love in a shroud.

 

Embalmed the heart,

Pinioned wings

And severed

Connections felt;

Passion

Undelivered.

 

A gust came then,

Wafted through

And left,

Refreshed the soul

Though heart was left

Bereft.

 

Storm clouds clear,

Skies lighten,

Blue breaks through,

Sunshine promised

And heart may still

Renew.

 

A lottery

Of love

And broken hearts,

So life goes,

New tickets

Hope imparts.

More Than Mere Words

Are you ok?

Are you well?

I need to know these things.

When I care, I care.

I can’t make that go away.

Are you thriving?

Are you happy?

Do you need someone?

Is life blessing your days?

Is there a way I can help?

Just say.

Love is what it is.

And spreads.

Be well.

Be blessed by love.

Don’t be afraid.

Or alone.

How are you?

More than mere words.