Reflections – Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Carol A. Hand

This morning I thought of you,
my once long ago Ojibwe lover
Sometimes I wonder what could have been
if we had met sooner before both promised to another

The way we laughed and loved perfectly balanced,
your deep and hearty roar blended with my lilting song
Colonialism molded us into reluctant wounded warriors,
our joyfulness somehow seemed so wrong

Poignantly, I remember your beauty and deep pain,
and the sense of responsibility you tried to drink away
Yet the memory remains of how, together, our carefree laughter
once lit up an Albuquerque restaurant on a long-ago,
long-ago,
long-ago
day

quil rose

Photo: Quilled-Rose on Birch Bark

***

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26 thoughts on “Reflections – Wednesday, July 27, 2016”

  3. The poem resonates for me in the sense of what might have been a love forgone. But I was lucky and still am if only my luck continues. We were not so unfortunate, Chantal and I, but found ourselves in each other’s arms some 39 years ago and thus we have remained. So much would have and might have been so different. The thought has often crossed my mind that we might have parted and all that has since come to pass and been so good might not have been. The thought is therefore always accompanied by both a feeling of grief for what might have been forsaken and the (frightful) recognition of just how fortuitous love truly is.

    It is most eminently a gift of chance, an accidental if impassioned encounter, however brief or extended in time, and yes, it can be lost, as surely one day it will be lost, as all things eventually do pass on, inevitably, inexorably, to become a long, long-ago day . . .

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for your always thoughtful comments, Inese. Your words are so true. Choosing which paths to follow is never an easy task, and looking back, I know I chose wisely although I still sometimes wonder – “What if…?”

      Liked by 1 person

  8. That is a lovely poem Carol. You captured love without blame when blame could have taken over. That is powerful storytelling. Did you write this recently? Bob

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much for your lovely comments, Bob.

      I’m not sure how to answer your question. The poem flowed through my fingers onto my keyboard yesterday, but I think it has been etched in my heart for decades, inspiring the work I’ve done over the years. Loving, as painful as it sometimes is, saved from the fate Gibran describes – from “… the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.” For that, I remain truly grateful.

      Like

  9. We all have hidden stories and memories that will go with us to the ground and stories of kisses that never cristalyzed and potential happiness that never was…aren’t they the sweetest of all our memories?. Lets cherish those memories as they are sometimes the stuff our dreams are made of. Hugs to you

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for sharing your lovely, wise insights, Silvia. I agree. Memories of “perfect” moments of loving connection that remain untarnished by the messiness of life “are sometimes the stuff our dreams are made of.” They’re sometimes what sustains us and inspires us to become more compassionate. I send hugs to you, too, dear friend ❤

      Liked by 1 person

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