Friday, March 25, 2011

Poem #15: Still Winter

Last spring was very difficult for me. Having just lost my baby, it was painful to watch nature blossom all around me. I wrote this poem during that time to describe how I felt. Normally, I enjoy the colorful signs of spring and the thawing of winter's cold. But if the seasons had matched my feelings, last winter would have been very long indeed.

I am happy to say that this year I am back to enjoying the signs of spring and very glad that winter is finally over. Of course, my enjoyment is bittersweet because the memories from last year will always be with me, but each flowering tree teaches me to hope. Winter will not last forever. Spring will come again.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Poem #14: Hands of the Fates

In Greek mythology the threads of human life are controlled by a trio of industrious women called the Fates: Clotho, who spins the threads; Lakesis, who measures the threads; and Atropos, who cuts the threads. I know there is a lot of controversy about when life actually begins, but for me, my daughter's life began as soon as she was conceived. This poem is written to her.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Poem #13: Grieving

Since today is the one year anniversary of the loss of our daughter, I feel it is very appropriate that this poem is the next in line. It was actually the first one I wrote after coming home from the hospital. I may have even started it a year ago today. Other than that, there's not really a lot of commentary to add as the poem speaks for itself.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Poem #12: A Five Course Meal

The Weeping Angels, a group of Doctor Who villains, gave me the idea for this poem. The Weeping Angels turn to stone when anyone looks at them and appear to be statues. However, when their victims look away or blink, the Weeping Angels send the victims back in time and feast on the futures, the potentialities, that are left behind.

After my loss, I thought about all the things that were no longer going to happen--a whole future snuffed out like a candle--and I imagined my own set of time-eating scavengers. I imagined them eating up the whole of my daughter's life, at least the life she should have had.