
A whole world in a puddle.
Monday Morning Musings:
“For words, like Nature, half reveal
And half conceal the Soul within.”
Alfred, Lord Tennyson, “In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 5”
“Now it was only the rivers
that spoke of the rivers,
and only the wind that spoke of its bees,
while the unpausing factual buds of the fruit trees
continued to move toward their fruit.”
–Jane Hirshfield, “On the Fifth Day”
How will we remember these days
of grief and sorrow for our world–
the facts of buds on trees
and rivers that keep on flowing
concealing and revealing what lies beneath
in the upside-down world
where we gaze at transitory beauty
and fall, topsy-turvy
into its depths
as spring dances, mercurial,
swiftly fleeting,
yet heralding—the facts—
yellow-green wisps turn darker
the world gets hotter,
and trees reach up
to light,
and down to darkness
half-revealed,
half-concealed
thoughts glimmer
like tears
until they drop
salty pearls
leaving an alluvial trail
fertile with memories
and I think of this–and time
as I listen to words,
singularity, time and space,
the black hole left
in an absence
even as we remember
the time before we are born
when my mother meets my father
and holds my older brother on her lap.
And she is young, old, older, gone. . .
.
. . .and here.
On Friday night, we visited with our daughters via Zoom. This Friday Shabbat dinner has become a new ritual. We ate soup and rolls, the gift of friends, sustaining us from a distance. I baked the cookies we call Mommy Cookies because they are my favorite. My mom loved them, too, and I used to bring her some.
I watched most of “The Universe in Verse,” which was live-streamed on Saturday just before we had our own family Zoom memorial session for my mother. It was a somewhat surreal experience marked by technical problems, non-sequiturs, and some memories of my mom that we shared.
We weren’t the only ones with technical difficulties. I tried to watch the Sonheim’s 90th birthday celebration last night, but I gave up. Apparently, it did go on, over an hour later that the scheduled 8 PM start.
We finished watched Giri/Haji (Duty/Shame) on Netflix, which I highly recommend if you want something unique. I really liked it. It’s a Japanese-British production that is difficult to describe. A Japanese detective is looking for his criminal brother in England. The detective’s daughter joins them. It is a crime show and a family drama. There is romance, and action scenes, and there are other characters who become important and endearing. I wasn’t sure about it after the first episode, but I really did get caught up in this show.
I found this sadly poignant
Thank you, Derrick.
I guess that’s how I’m feeling–it’s very dreary here today, too.
X
Especially liked the image of the robin egg shell. Most interesting musing. (And the word musing so fits.) Blessings….
Much appreciated–thank you!
Wow. This is Amazing
Thank you SO much!
Powerful prose – love the way the photos flowed with the words – condolences for the passing of your mother
– and thanks for the tip on the show to check out. Sounds good
Thank you very much. ( I just found your comment in my spam folder.)
Thanks for rescuing it!
Beautiful musings, Merril. Thank you for sharing your heart with us. I loved your photos, too. Take care of yourself. ❤
Thank you so much, Jill. ❤️
Thank you for the Monday Musings, your title revealing the ambivalence of your life today and our lives collectively. I never thought you looked much like your mother. Now I realize you have her smile!
I feel ambivalent about Zoom, though it provides me with 3 connections: Pilates, writers’ group and Pre-school teachers. Like others, I’ll join in with “Take care of yourself,” which I think you are doing as much as possible these days. ((( )))
Thank you, Marian. I’m not sure I see the smile, but it seems like everyone in my family at times looks like someone else and at other times does not. More ambivalence, perhaps. 😏
I suppose like any other social platform, Zoom has its place. I enjoy our Friday night dinners, but our memorial was. . .hmmm. . .weird. I can’t imagine trying to do a Pilates class via Zoom.
About Pilates: We lie on mats in our individual living rooms, offices, etc. The instructor is the “big picture” so we can see her moves. Friends are the smaller images at the top of the screen. The goal: staying shape and staying in touch. 🙂
Yes, I get how it works, and I’m glad it works for you. 😉
Always a beautiful read. Within the dreariness we are all living (and some, like you, even more so) we do have nature to turn to which continues to do her thing. Thank goodness for that.
Lotsa love sent your way… xoxo
Thank you so much, Dale! ❤️
💖
Your photos are breathtaking.
I too have an evening ritual with my daughters. I wonder if it will stay when the virus leaves.
I’m glad that, despite technical difficulties, your family was able to connect to honor your mother.
In a way everything now feels like a rehearsal. (K)
Thank you very much, Kerfe.
I’m glad you have an evening ritual with your daughters. I hope it does last.
I’m not sure that we honored my mother–it was like one of those very strange family holidays dinners–perhaps that is an honor in itself in a strange way.
Half revealed…half concealed. Yes. Well said. A commentary on these days.
Thank you for the tip on the Netflix series – we are always looking for a new one.
Your grief touches many lives who seek to comfort you, but words actually fail. Know that your friends in cyberspace are thinking of you and your family.
Oh Sheila–how very kind. Thank you!
I tend to pick shows and movies that are not mainstream. 😏The other one on Netflix that I really liked recently was Babylon Berlin.
Yes, we enjoyed Babylon Berlin as well. Not for the faint-hearted but fascinating.
It was fascinating.
Love the poetry, quotes and adore that Friday ritual
Thank you very much, Jude. It’s been fun “getting together” every Friday night.
I needed your poem so badly today. You will never know how much it touched me. Thank you. 🙏
Thank you so much, Pam. I’m so happy my words touched you, and I’m sorry that you needed them to. Sending hugs.
I know, though, that writing this is not entirely comfortable for you, and yet isn’t it great to know that the words are so comforting?
Yes, it truly is. ❤️
Good pictures and great poem!!!
Thank you very much!
Thank you.
A beautiful tribute to your Mother Merril, at least that’s how I see it …
Thank you very much, Susan. Yes, I suppose a tribute of sorts.
Very sad but understated. Beautiful photos.
Thank you, Luanne.
What a sweet tribute to a beautiful soul! xo ❤️
Thank you, Rachel. ❤️
“And she is young, old, older, gone. . .
.
. . .and here.”
Always here, I am sure.
Thank you, Ken. Yes, I think time can be very fluid.
So lovely, these lines especially: salty pearls
leaving an alluvial trail
fertile with memories
I love this “trend” of reflections in your photos, so thought-provoking and beautiful. Stay well ❤
Thank you so much, Marie! ❤️