Sunday, April 13, 2008

D.C. al fine

I know there are coils

still to be sprung from the

Rhapsody of Time, but

this nostalgic bow of

mine can only hook,

and slide

[Family photo, Summer 2004]


Anonymous said...

Ack! Ack! I'm having one of those emotional-mommy-weekends where I watch my sleeping children and my heart seizes up in joy and agony - so your poem definitely spoke to me.

It's a really lovely piece.

Anonymous said...

I know that repetition.

Years ago, everything was so clear. Milestones came quickly. Then, the world slows.

You'll find those starbursts to chart your course by.

We all just have to make sure that we embrace the risk of setting sail.

ChristineEldin said...

Aerin, I'm having those a lot lately. Sigh....

This is a beautiful and sad poem. Keep hugging them and taking photos.

Sarah Hina said...

Aerin, yes, you describe it perfectly! One turn of that merry-go-round, and we're light years away. I'm happy that we are where we are, and yet...there's that need to glance backward, and see what's been lost.

Thank you for the lovely response. :)

You're right, Jason. We have to create the milestones now, instead of just reaching up and grabbing someone else's rings. A part of me loves that, and a part of me--if only sometimes--still bends to circle the past.

I will, Chris. In between those times when they're driving me mad. ;)

Thank you!

Dave said...

A blurry photo can sometimes bring back more to one's memory than a sharp one. I have no doubt that the two on the carousel will remember it vividly! Nice blog! :-)

Ello said...

THat's lovely! Time goes so fast. Everytime I look up the kids seem bigger and I seem older. Looking back seems the only way to catch up with what I've missed.

Aine said...

One of the best bits of advice I ever received was given by my matron of honor on our wedding day. She told me to pay attention to the details.

I've had to remind myself often through the years to do that-- to live in the present (and appreciate the present!)

Early motherhood has got to be the most difficult, out of balance time in our lives. And it's so unfair that it gets followed by midlife issues. So I understand the draw of nostalgia. It's the only way to find focus in the blur.

I think we have an Evans version of that photo!

Sarah Hina said...

It is such an awful photo, Dave, but it matched my thoughts perfectly. And I do remember that day, although the recollection is, of course, a little blurry.

Thanks for stopping by, and for the kind words! :)

Ello, sometimes I think I only grab hold of a moment in retrospect. For me, there's almost always the anticipation, even while experiencing a loveliness, of its imminent flight.

But I guess I'm a little morbid that way.

I'd like to see the Evans version, Aine. :)

I need that constant prodding to embrace the present, too. The wonderful, and misleading, thing about nostalgia is that it pierces through the clutter of our lives, and touches a single truth. I remember the day of this photo: we were at the Columbus Zoo, and it was hot, and I was worried about her getting a sunburn, and that she hadn't slept well, and how long did we have before she became too crabby to continue, and--

Well, you get the idea.

So the photo is only a sliver of the whole picture. But what a sliver!


Jaye Wells said...

What Aerin said.

Abhinav said...

You are going so simple and elemental that you seem like Goddess Echo whose voice repeats what is in the hearts of all. The work of a writer is not only to tell a different story but also search for essential truths in the process. Keep blogging small truths and keep writing bigger ones. :-)

Scott said...

I'm always amazed at the level of comprehension other people have with art and words. I'm one of those country bumpkins, simple in so many ways.

Billy said...

Lovely! Memories and details can elude us so easily ... but they are treasures beyond worth!

Sarah Hina said...

Thanks, Jaye. :)

I love that last comment, Abhinav. Your counsel is a great guide for me right now. And your insights always make my day burn brighter. :)

Thank you, Scott, but I don't believe you. ;)

Billy, sometimes I think memories are the ghostly outlines that we color in with our present regrets or sweet yearnings.

But whether they haunt us or cheer us, we cannot help but to dig for them anew.

Thanks for your comment. :)