Once Broken, Healed

The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.
                                                  Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (1929)

Once Broken, Healed

What is loss, but an empty space?

And what is an empty space,
but that which waits to be filled?

The last generation that was,
at the time of your passing,
was not the last generation.

That which follows holds a place
of its own that encompasses
that which once was, always will be,
you, knowing all that you were
and all that you held.

 

This poem is another response to dVerse Poetics – One True Sentence, the prompt from Lisa at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is to use one of the sentences provided, quotes from the works of Ernest Hemingway to write a poem.
When my father died in 1993 he had eight grandchildren, aged from one to twenty-two. There are now fourteen great-grandchildren (including two adoptions). All of them know, or will know, him.

Shared with Open Link Night #295 – Midsummer Live at dVerse Poets Pub.

message of hatred ~ sedoka

message of hatred
for unsuspecting victims
dispensed by madmen with guns

as a nation grieves
bodies continue to fall
in world where no place is safe

 

This sedoka is my response to
Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #96 Little Ones … Sedoka

A Sedoka is an unrhymed poem composed of two katauta. A katauta is able to stand alone, with three lines and a syllable pattern of 5-7-7. A Sedoka therefore has the syllable count: 5-7-7, 5-7-7.  Each katauta must be able to be read independently, but also create a cohesive singular work in the Sedoka.

Mass shootings, fueled by nationalism, bigotry and hatred continue at an accelerated pace in the United States, a place where such events are becoming the new norm in news cycles.

a fitting farewell ~ haiku

 

a fitting farewell
her final post a whisper
keeper of secrets

Jennifer / jennifer kiley / jk (Marge) was The Secret Keeper. My interaction with The Secret Keeper was limited to her weekly writing challenge and her haiku review challenge, but through her blog I came to understand some of the challenges she faced in life.

Since you’re only seeing one side of a person through their blog, I recognize that connecting with someone in that way is a limited experience, but it’s still troubling to lose someone you may never have met. Through The Secret Keeper’s blog, her partner, Shawn MacKenzie, informed us of Marge’s last days of failing health (here) and of her final passing (here).

A regular feature for The Secret Keeper was quotes from The Remembrance of Things Past, by Marcel Proust, some of which are common to many of us as inner secrets. One of the earliest was:

“Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy;
they are the charming gardeners
who make our souls blossom” – Marcel Proust

And her last was:

“Pleasures are like photographs: in the presence of the person we love, we take only negatives, which we develop later, at home, when we have at our disposal once more our inner darkroom, the door of which it is strictly forbidden to open while others are present.” – Marcel Proust

This link will take you to her collection of Weekly Writing Prompts.

Here are her prompts for her Haiku Review Challenge.

Departure

Departure

I will drive, and the memories will come,
melding with the miles, feeling the same.

Familiar.
Worn.

But the miles now outpace
the memories, the trips

more often each passing year,
my own years soon passing.

Will I be someone’s miles,
someone’s memories?

Traveling for what seems like the wrong reason, but which is, of course, the right reason.

All That Remains

All That Remains

Memories measured in miles

A memorial in my mind

Loss, and the connections that remain

In the past couple of years, traveling has become about loss. Taking photos while visiting favorite places in the same area is a nice distraction, but making the trip is just as much about finding comfort in the company of those I hold dear.

Ken G.

peony’s last petal falls ~ haibun

many seasons gone

peony’s last petal falls

We do not always get to choose the time of our final parting. Any meeting could be the last, and the last should hold the spirit of the true meaning of what we hold dear.  I would travel in any season, if it means paying my lasting, final respects to a most lovely flower.
Farewell, Cioci Sophie.

many seasons gone
peony’s last petal falls
accepting sadness


Image source: wikimedia.org (Peonies, by Yun Shouping, 1633-1690)