Son


Father's Love

Son

Reminiscing
His blond hair waving in the wind,
Or his blue eyes charting the stars.
He’s grown now,
He no longer needs me
Runs to his shelter
Sits in my lap for sweet caresses.

Come back my little boy.
Drink my milk
Let me raise you once more –
high in the sky.
Then let your feet touch the ground.

But then he’ll be old again
(So will I).
And once more I’ll miss his smiles,
His skinned knees,
And that muddy appearance
When he returns from a hard day of play
So then once more I’ll be
Reminiscing.

He dove into the pile
The hues of yellow and brown
Clashed with the red white and blue suit
As he buried himself in the pile.
Suddenly, Silence
Only the wind could be heard
Nothing moved
But a leaf emancipating itself from the pile.
Then the blond head,
A little nose, a smile
And finally the entire jolly body
Appeared.


*******************

This was written in 1993 and posted for Blue Bell Books Short Story Slam Week 12:

Image Credit: Sweetestsin2862

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About zongrik

For those of you who do not know the handle "zongrik," that would be Bat-Ami Gordin. Most people call me "Tammy." Bat-Ami means "daughter of my nation" in Hebrew. It's a heavy name to carry around. I answer to either name. I also answer to "mama." Some Basic Things about me: Animal lover, mom, poet/writer, dramatic soprano, photographer, teacher/tutor, CERT/Technician and, oh yeah, aerospace engineer. I consider myself "The Astro-Poet." To learn more about the origins of the word "zongrik" see whats-a-zongrik?

Posted on October 13, 2011, in http://bluebellbooks.blogspot.com/. Bookmark the permalink. 40 Comments.

  1. moving, some divine lines in the middle,

    well done.

  2. Beautiful! Thank you for stopping by. Yes, he will as he knows the tragic circumstance of his dad’s death.

  3. That’s really lovely. I love that description at the end of him coming out fron the leaves. Cute!

  4. Very lovely. I really like the end the best–the coming out of the leaves.

  5. Great poem! Wouldn’t it be nice to get a do-over with our children. Wait a minute. I think it is called grandchildren!

  6. Lol! I like Belva’s do-over called grandchildren!! I’m having that do-over thing too. Loved the poem Zongrik! We usually don’t appreciate our children until we are older, unfortunately. Peace and blessings, Terri

    • Funny you should say this, because I wrote this when my kids were young. But now that they are older, I really do miss them when they followed me like ducklings. They are totally different people. The children they were are gone. I can almost mourn for them.

  7. Delightful. You painted a really colourful picture.

  8. cheerful and thoughtful piece..
    Thanks for sharing.

  9. that’s wonderful… i can feel the love you have for your child… πŸ™‚

    JJRod’z

  10. Very sweet. All parents of adult children will understand these sentiments.

  11. love the birth imagery there at the end in that pile of leaves…really well done…sowho were you playing off of?

  12. The image of the boy emerging from the pile of leaves is so very clear and I believe an apt metaphor for the play you make on the seasons of life that change so rapidly. In nature, they recycle but in life things are linear. I like cyclical. This is quite poignant, Bat-Ami.

  13. Lovely. Is this written in the style of another poet? It doesn’t strike me as familiar. Nonetheless, it is a lovely poem, almost could be two poems. The depth of the leaf pile makes that part strong enough to stand on its own. Enjoyed.

    Beth

    • Interesting comment. Not sure what ou mean by style of another poet? Do you mean you recognize the style of someone other poet, and you’re asking me who it is, or it doesn’t seem like my style that you have read elsewhere? I wrote it in 1994, I was a different person and certainly a different poet then.

      The leaf part actually, in a way is separate. The concept is about one of my sons, and the beginning is about him, but then, I threw in an image from when my niece was very little, because it was so gorgeous, so yeah, it’s a different story.

  14. Just a beautiful and thoughtful write….for anyone who has a boychild this is heartwarminging…bkm

  15. Childhood is such a magical time. It is so much fun to remember both one’s own childhood and the youngest years of one’s children or grandchildren. Nothing like it.

  16. It’s a very sweet piece.. yet it brings out the yearning that all parents have when kids grow up! Beautiful..

  17. Precious! Children are so dear.

  18. Keep those precious moments forever…… they grow up so fast.. Lovely thoughts…..

  19. Delightful poem, the love she has for children is the purest there is.

  20. Tender and poignant piece ! And the little ones grow up so quickly … and you wonder where the years have gone to … πŸ™‚

  21. What an amazing, reflective, expressive poem. This is a poem I think resonants with every parent.

  22. Beautiful voice, image, emotion. Thank you.

  23. Very nice write and I enjoyed reading here. The end lines almost get you about the still not moving then he pops up from the leaves! I think all kids have to do that at least once.
    Pretty amazing, the image of mine came right back.

  24. Striking poem! You surely strummed my heart strings with this one.

  25. What a loving tribute to your children… they, and you, are very lucky πŸ™‚

  26. this is really precious

  27. I adored the ending. This is so sweet. Thank you!

  28. Wow, a beautiful reminiscence…A powerful and enchanting memory bottled here for us all to enjoy.

  29. very moving and a powerful piece filled with heart and love
    http://gatelesspassage.com/2011/10/17/to-my-son/

  30. such sweet imagery! well done πŸ˜€

  31. very nice,makes you think hard about ones children.

  32. This is so sweet, especially the little head emerging from the leaves. It all goes by way too fast, doesnt it?

  33. That’s an inoeginus way of thinking about it.

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