Monday Morning Musings:
“God, how we get our fingers in each other’s clay. That’s friendship, each playing the potter to see what shapes we can make of each other.”
–Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Come
“And Guy felt it again—the sense of hostility in the clump of woods east of the house. . .
What chance combination of shadow and sound and his own thoughts had created it?”
Patricia Highsmith, Strangers on a Train
So now, my mother feels her age
and shadows walk on either side
both before and behind, this stage
of life, some accept, others rage.
My own walk, confident, with pride
stepping fast and firmly to ground
with thoughts in clouds and eyes now wide
to watch my mom and match her stride.
This fake spring day, a shy half-smile
timid, like a deer, before it flees
and can’t be seen, but for awhile
we’ll bask in light, as it beguiles
though my mom unaware, she sees
but doesn’t, knows winter is here
leaves dropped and then tossed in the breeze
is age a stage, or a disease?
We go for drinks, daughter’s birthday,
we talk and laugh, I’ve baked a cake
we’ll sit awhile, no lengthy stay
work tomorrow, always the way
I value moments with my child
a beautiful woman, she’s become
with students now that she has styled
wisdom and laughter reconciled
We watch a film set in a war
where women have to hide their hair
and people flee to basements for
there is danger, bomb threats, and more.
Did djinn arrive somewhere upstairs
flying on missiles in the wind?
But look, what is real, what nightmares–
shapes in shadows, sounds on the stairs?
A date day to play with some clay
cold outside, but it’s warm inside,
we turn the wheel, and learn the way
clay becomes bowl–or thrown away.
I say to him look at the moon
as we walk into the light of night,
city to train, and then home soon
for shadow-dreams to lunar tune.
Secret language, a potter’s wheel
spins, shaping it, and us anew
through heartache, and then all we feel
as spring to fall, to age we kneel.
I’ve attempted something different for my Monday Morning Musings—a Rubaiyat. This is part of the poetry forms series on dVerse. I’m not sure if this works.
We watched the movie, Under the Shadow, an Iranian movie set during the 1980s in Tehran. I liked it—it’s billed as a horror movie, but there’s a lot more to it than that. It’s on Netflix. Trailer here. We went to the Clay Studio in Philadelphia for a date day. There was wine, beer, food, and instruction. Each person gets to make two pieces (you can actually make more and keep your best two). I’ve never used a potter’s wheel before. We weren’t too good at it, but it was fun. On Tuesday, it was in the 60s F. Today, it’s snowing.