Thursday, March 19, 2015

Dead Mothers

Here's what I know
you cannot lose a mother at the cemetery.
She catches a ride back to the reception,
listens to every word said, standing
against the wall because standing is good
when there are not enough chairs,
notice who is having another highball,
reminds you about the coffee, reminds
 you when everyone is gone.

You will see her in your dreams, but also
in your kitchen peering into your spice cabinet,
your oven that needs going over.
You find yourself singing
a song long out of mind, her song.
You feel her nudge you back
from the edge of curbs
and rash moves.

Leave a rocking chair empty and sooner or later,
it will move gently back and forth.
When you are troubled, sometimes
a hand smooths your forehead
and you sigh, forgetting for a moment
that you are alone, or think you are.
Walk in the green fields on a soft day
and listen.  Hers is the voice your hear
calling you home.

Dolores Stewart - thank you for your book "Doors to the Universe"
and giving me permission to share your poems....

12 comments:

Rebecca said...

Oh, my goodness! How true. How tender.

Sandra said...

What a lovely poem in souvenir of a good mother.

sheila said...

Oh I love this. It's a keeper. Thanks so much for posting it.

Sheila

One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...

Rebecca, Sandra and Sheila,
thanks for your comments.
A cold damp day
here by the woods
but Spring is on the way..

Sky said...

love this!

Judy said...

I had one of those moments just today. I could sense her, so I said, "Hi Mother." and smiled.

One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...

Sky and Judy, thanks for visiting and guess I could have added
more things that remind me of my mother - but did not.
Strange how in an instance
a memory will surface.

Wisewebwoman said...

I hope Dolores won't mind I posted this on a private FB page I set up for the family and friends of my recently deceased BFF.
It's such a powerful poem, it made me cry.
XO
WWW

One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...

WWW, she would be pleased
just post her name as author
I followed a poem I love, trying to find the author - took a while
and will later post and found her email

Laura said...

What a beautiful poem… thank you for sharing it with all of us. I've not been by in a while so thought I'd check in and let you know you've been on my heart and mind. Did I read above your son is coming home? That is very exciting! How wonderful too that it is so sunny and warm where you are. We had a sunny day today, but 16F when I went to the doctor's this morning. Well, that's ok, I choose to live here in NH with my family. The snow is melting, there are bare patches making circles around trees, letting their roots breathe a bit.

Beverly said...

I dream of my mother every night... I wake up and think she is there, and then I realize I was dreaming.... This was wonderful....my mother used to brush my hair back across my forehead.....

One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...

Laura, thank you for checking in and Beverly when I was writing this I thought of you as I remember you sharing about your mother :)