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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
 Posted - 10/01/2011 : 23:40:55
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It's a different feeling when the last of your parents passes.
I'm a bit adrift here at the moment, as if I am, as Rilke put it,
"standing on fishes". I do remember thinking - looking back over
my shoulder as she chased me down the street with a broom when I
was six or seven, her strawberry blonde hair blowing behind her -
thinking how beautiful my mother was. I still think that. And no
matter what I've done in my life, I knew that she was proud of me,
of my music, my work, even my mischief.
We get to that age where the maps change, the landscape looks
different, family and friends disappear from us. Where the water
was shallow and our feet soon touched and sank into the mud when
we jumped in, now it's deeper, colder, and we can't find the bottom.
The places I used to play when I first came to Vancouver are gone.
Trees are missing. It's harder to find a good loaf of bread.
Coming back from my last visit with my mother, I drove into a wind
storm with heavy rain. The sun's silver made it impossible to see
the dividing lines on the highway. At one point, driving down a
tight stretch of the freeway guarded close on each side by trees
that leaned in, there were thousands of leaves blowing horizontally
into my windshield. I had the sensation that I was flying, that my
old car had lifted from the earth. Terrifying? I laughed out loud.
My mother's death marks a loss, yes, but it was also a mercy, an
end to her pain. I have her in my heart and breath. It may take a
while to regain my balance and to navigate the new landscape, but
I look forward to the times ahead.
She lived a good life. Such a kind soul. I loved her.
Doris Mae Lang (1926-2011)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UhXUbrEyacw |
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Becka
Sitter
95 Posts |
Posted - 10/02/2011 : 07:49:22
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| Where's the LIKE button, Doug..... :) |
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San Diego
Swinger
508 Posts |
Posted - 10/02/2011 : 21:57:21
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"I have her in my heart and breath."
A beautiful tribute to your mother, Doug.
I'm sure she feels your love. Bless you.
Ro |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2173 Posts |
Posted - 10/03/2011 : 17:42:40
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Adam watches her gather reeds from a patch of rush.
How she grasps the stalks gently, then lays them out
to dry. He watches her weaving in the abalone light
of late afternoons. Soon the basket begins to appear.
A pattern that starts from a single point and moves in
a circle around him. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2173 Posts |
Posted - 10/03/2011 : 17:47:37
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Adam paints an aquarelle view in the kitchen window.
A blistered sill to lean their elbows on. Some heaven
slides by. Some sunny days. Nights, he interprets the
sky. A fugue of words. A frenzy of stars. Variations
on a theme. His soul, that deep well slowly filling. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2173 Posts |
Posted - 10/03/2011 : 17:51:49
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Adam's quirky magic and astonishing art, Eve's sun-stung
cheeks and undone hair in a tangle. They grow content and
drowsy. Eons pass. Several dozens or so. Some serpents
wily business. Yet no serpent stirs in their dreaming. |
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1824 Posts |
Posted - 10/07/2011 : 22:40:06
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Oh, Doug, I couldn't watch all of it .. because of my mom .. Stage IV liver cancer at 94 .. but, she is still not in any pain and still doing her thing ..
But, now, my son-in-law is just days away from leaving us with cancer of the pancreas .. my daughter and my grandchildren .. you know ? He is only 41, and just made Major in the Air Force .. he will not live to have his rank pinned on him legally, so the members of his squadron at Cape Canaveral and some wonderful commanding officers arranged a ceremony in ICU in the hospital and had his children pin his rank on him ... Steve is the only one who doesn't know it wasn't the real thing ... kind of wonderful of them to do that for them, wasn't it ?
I cry all the time, but that's oKAY .. thank you for the things you wrote about your mother .. loved what I could watch of the video.
but, I need to know her age, please.
Blessings to all,
LOVE,
BarbraG |
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 10/09/2011 : 09:41:19
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For my dear cousin, Michael, who took his own life at a very
young age, with a gun that once belonged to Buffalo Bill...
WILLIAM CODY'S GUN
Grid roads, barbed-wire fences, trees bent to the east
The prairie, unpretentious, the begging bowl, the feast
The long and fine horizon line you never want to reach
So you come back to hard wisdom, what the turning seasons teach
Return to graves to break down what a story never solves
Dried-up ground, a creaking sound, the old wind vane revolves
Atop a barn built by men whose English wasn't good
Their memories hang like paint chips on the unforgiving wood
Oh, Michael, I've come back here to look for you, my friend
And for William Cody's gun, the one that brought you to your end
Rust on dented fender, truck smells of ghosts and gasoline
Maple Creek to Sintaluta and every dog-eared town between
The wind-blown seed, the Joe Pye weed, trace of claws and hooves
The daily tasks, the brandy flasks, the masks that pain removes
When all you trust joins with the dust and bird calls turn to cries
And simple dreams dry up like streams and darken both your eyes
And though you try to step on every weapon nature wields
Tthere's nothing left to show for all your labor in these fields
Oh, Michael, I've come back here to look for you, old friend
And for William Cody's gun, the one that brought you to your end
That gun belonged to uncle Joe, we both wanted it, you see
When he died I cried because he left the gun to you, not me
I don't know how it happened, mixed up by accounts I hear
Men are weakened by their secrets, you were married just a year
By your grave I stand and crave what a story never solves
Dried-up ground, a creaking sound, the old wind vane revolves
Atop a barn built by men whose English wasn't good
The truth hides in the paint chips on the unforgiving wood
Oh, Michael, I look for you now, my cousin and my friend
And for William Cody's gun, the one that brought you to your end
DL |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 10/09/2011 : 19:40:22
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I pushed the horse out past the town, out to where I had buried her...I didn't come out here too often, but today I needed to talk to her, to tell her what I had done... Any success you have in this life is only satisfied when you share it with someone you care about.... Today I had made them run; made them afraid to ever come back... They will see the look in my eyes for the rest of their lives and they will remember it... They will see the difference between what they worship and what I worship and see why I will always be stronger... And I had come to say goodbye; good bye to her and to the life we had known together, and to this piece of land where I had put her body....
The snow is falling around me now, and the sound of the woods has changed as I ride... Riding away from her.... Riding away from them.... I am a slave to the tobacco in my pouch and the whiskey in my bags, but I will be a slave to no man or woman ever again.... The choices have been made for me this time, but I have learned how to make them work in my favor... Today I can ride with no guilt, I can ride with no pain; the lands that I see in the skies over the next mountain are the lands where I will spend my next days... My horse breathes the cold air and carries me onward... Ever onward we shall ride...
I look around at the thick trees and the little creek and realize that I have been riding in circles... I take the saddlebag with the whiskey and throw it into the creek... I keep the tobacco... If you are to ride away from something, Preacher, you must ride Away from it, not encircle it with your feeble pace.... Throw off your baggage and ride with the wind; God knows, there is no reason not to... There is so much more behind you than you are apt to meet up ahead that there is nothing or no one to fear anymore... Your strength and resolve, what little you have left, is not of your making, it has come from somewhere else, but it carries with it a price, a responsibility that you have ignored for too long now...
It is snowing again, as I get down off the horse.... I listen to the music coming from the creek and feel the old fever starting to rise... I throw off the hat and heavy coat and begin to sing and dance around the trees... As I spin around and around, I see the faces from my past coming out of the moonlight........ And they are smiling..... All is as it should be....
I have come to the river to pray.... It should have been raining.... I felt the sun on my face as I left the woods, and the horse and I rode over the crest of the hill and saw the river again for the first time.... My River... Our River.... Where it had all started.... Being here now without her would be like all the years I spent before her, seeking my peace and comfort in the river, except that now I would be missing a piece of my soul.... The inland town that we had gone to was behind me now; the gamblers, the ramblers..... the dead.... I would seek to find my faith again, here where I had found it in the first place, here where I was raised half a century ago before the world had turned upside down.... I have come to the river to make my confession, to seek my salvation, to see if there is any future here for one such as I, left without a heart, but still full of seeking, still full of purpose, still full of the belief that I am powerless without the help of a power outside and above myself....
It turns colder as the sun descends behind Hook Mountain and leaves me in the darkness... once again... It seems that the darkness has become my friend just like the rain... For one that has not lived the life that he was expected to, has not fulfilled the promise that was foreseen for him, has not lived in the light as he had vowed..... The faith has never left..... The belief in the power of the Blood has been there from the start and is there now, to this day.... The Father, the Son, the Man I am....
I have come to the river to pray....
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1824 Posts |
Posted - 10/10/2011 : 20:24:33
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Hank,
You sometimes leave me speechless !!! Hope you are well.
BarbraG |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 10/13/2011 : 18:00:35
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Thnx BG 
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 10/13/2011 : 19:31:26
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I hear the whispers everywhere
Some I almost recognize
Her red hair on her shoulders
Her fingers on my thighs.
[Baby don't want to leave me
I'm living enough for two,
The whiskey helps the pills go down
What's a proud man gonna do?]
It's only when they're talking
That my mind seems to work at all,
She brought the glory to October
In the Hudson Valley fall.
[We drove across those amber plains
Nuthin but loving on our minds,
The music helped the pain go down
We followed the white lines.]
She loved to talk to Mickey
They'd cough and wheeze all night
There were nights when we were almost sane
There were days the sun was bright.
[Baby don't want to leave me
I'm living enough for two,
The whiskey helps the pills go down
What's a proud man gonna do?]
Every night about this time
The whispers seem to stop
She left a nightgown on my door
The other shoe shouldn't drop.
[We drove across those amber plains
Nuthin but loving on our minds,
The music helped the pain go down
We were two times two of a kind.]
I hear the whispers everywhere
Some I almost recognize
Her red hair on her shoulders
Her fingers on my thighs.
Ghosts of memories don't linger
I chant that every night
Waiting for a day when I'm almost sane
And a night when the stars are bright.
Ghosts of memories don't linger
I chant that every night
Waiting for a day when I'm almost sane
And a night when the stars are bright.
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 10/14/2011 : 02:09:46
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FOLLOWING THE RIVER
I'm still following the river
I know you know the one
Its water keeps our wishes
Gathers color from the sun
It senses where it's going
Has a gift to give the sea
I'm following that river
If you come to look for me
Were you meant to be my lover
Only time will tell
I taste you in the water
I hear you like a bell
That rings back into silence
In a temple I can't find
I chant away the ages
Invite beginner's mind
I move closer to those wishes
To release and to renew
It's the least of all your worries
And the best that I can do
To listen to what teaches
To rise up when I fall
To be naked in the water
When I miss you most of all
Were you meant to be beside me
Out beyond the yes and no
I take a breath inside me
Hold it still and let it go
And I listen as the silence
Gives way to the bell again
I almost lose my balance
I barely have a skin
I'm still here beside the river
I know you know the one
Its water keeps our wishes
Gathers color from the sun
It senses where it's going
Has a gift to give the sea
I'll be following the river
When you come to look for me
DL |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 10/14/2011 : 07:38:27
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On Sunday mornings, I ride out to the river...
...past the spot where my old man taught me to shoot…seems like centuries ago...and yesterday.
...past the little church with families going in the door...like mine did...parents dragging the kids up the steps...like mine did.
...the young boys stare. They know who I am.
They dream of being me. If only they knew.
They’re going where they need to be going.
Me…I’m going…
...to the river.
I read my Bible every day. I believe God has a plan for us all. But, still…I guess if Jesus Christ Himself came down from heaven to tell me what to do…
...I likely wouldn’t do it.
Actually…He did…
...and I didn’t.[/quote]
"On Sunday mornings, I ride out to the river..."
Apparently, I'm not the only one.
Who are these people?
Throwing things in the water...prayin'...lookin' at the sky...
...lookin' downstream...lookin' upstream...watchin' the water flow past...
...this many metaphors make me mad.
"Let the waters wash over me...wash over me". |
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aussiedave
Swinger
Australia
509 Posts |
Posted - 10/15/2011 : 01:48:07
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Catch-44
on a carousel,
a carousel-jacques brel,
on a carousel
he was simple
man
oh such a simple
man,
a man of honour,
all of his life
on a carousel,
a carousel-jacques brel,
on a carousel
all of his life
people had told him
in one way
or another,
that he knew not
what he knew,
that he did not know
of what he was talking about
...and they were correct,
on a carousel,
a carousel-jacques brel,
round and around
on a carousel
their words made him feel
inadequate
depressed
alone,
prone to isolation...
then they told him,
that he had no right
to feel that way
on a carousel,
a carousel-jacques brel,
on a carousel
round and around
faster and faster,
round and around
...going nowhere.
dR Oct 2011 |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 10/15/2011 : 10:52:43
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"a wheel within a wheel". |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 10/15/2011 : 15:10:37
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| You dear folks are jewels. A treasure resides in this room |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2173 Posts |
Posted - 10/15/2011 : 18:21:09
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The spread-open fan of memory. A walk along the Embarcadero.
The carousel and fortune teller's high-sided wagon. The jet-scarred
sky filled with shore birds cries. "...tell ourselves stories to
make sense of our lives..." he said. His story. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2820 Posts |
Posted - 10/27/2011 : 19:53:47
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Martina asked me to tell her
how the rest of my life went
after her.
I told her that I was mostly high and dry
for a time, but that I got along on my own
after awhile.
I told her that I remembered that she
gave me the rest of her life and
that all she ever asked from me was
all I had left, but all I had left was tears
and that she deserved better at the end.
She said,
I see you've managed to stash away a
few tears for a rainy day.
Good, keep them close, but, please,
Keep dancing.... |
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Joe Z
Windchimer
USA
1819 Posts |
Posted - 10/29/2011 : 15:01:31
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| There's something sad about seeing trees lose their leaves, especially as we grow older. |
Edited by - Joe Z on 10/29/2011 15:40:23 |
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The Nightly Vigil