Oh Phyllis, it's wonderful and fills me with such great visuals; animated-like as in the teapot in the movie "Beauty and the Beast" and brings back one of my favourite memories of when my grown children visit and I'm the first one to bed, lol. I fall asleep in the most beautiful place, listening to their chatter and laughter and think how wonderful it is to have everyone safe and sound under my roof again for that short time. Delicious and beautiful , something you can't buy, thank you. Linda
Having just spent time with my oldest for the first time since last May, this echoes with such depth. My daughter lives 12 hours away, so the in person visits are few and far between... and feeling her presence still in my house after she is back home in hers is priceless. Heal well, dear Phyllis and thank you for turning your heart into this poem. ❤️
I suspect there might be a poem hiding in your daughter's abiding "presence" in your house, though she has departed again. Anyway, I'm glad for your reunion.
That is so beautiful! My sister, who lives in England, is visiting. She was last here two years ago. Your poem speaks of how hearth and heart rejoices when she's here.❤️
I love this poem, Phyllis - you so perfectly capture the tension between the deep longing for connection with your son and the odd disassociation of Covid, where all the objects in the world are charged with meaning but the self is diffuse - and maybe that’s a metaphor for the inner life in general.
Now that is dedication 😉 Just please be good to yourself and let your body heal. COVID is one of those illnesses where you can't muscle your way back to the land of the healthy. We eagerly await your return, but it's important to give yourself that gift of time. 🤗
I hear you. Your'e so right about "not muscling your way back." This is my second experience of COVID, and the first was a month of the hard stuff. This time, I feel fortunate at the end of the third week to be getting some spunk back. Sometimes it's still like somebody yanks my plug and I just lose it. Getting there, though.
I feel your heart in your reading the beautiful words to your loving son. Thank you for this morning meditation in Minnesota where your son has returned to. Blessings on your healing.
What a gift as I imagine your poem. Sorry for your having to lay back to back masked with your son, and oh such grace to be so creatively intimate in love and welcome. I hope your son's homecoming will bring you back to wellness. Your way with words reveals you have come down right as you live breath by breath. Deep gratitude.
Oh Phyllis! That is so touching, loving and real. Your words and poem reveal your deep embrace for your son. I am sorry you have been unwell. Through it all, you remain creative, talented and kind hearted.
Phyllis, what a beautiful poem that reflects a beautiful relationship with your son. The two of you are blessed beyond measure to have each other! Thank you for sharing. Sending healing vibes your way!❤️
What a beautiful poem. Straight from the heart. I love how the house welcomes him and I hope you get well soon. Lovingly, Victoria.
Thank you, Victoria. ❤️
Lovely ❣️
Glad you enjoyed the poem, Nancy!
Oh Phyllis, it's wonderful and fills me with such great visuals; animated-like as in the teapot in the movie "Beauty and the Beast" and brings back one of my favourite memories of when my grown children visit and I'm the first one to bed, lol. I fall asleep in the most beautiful place, listening to their chatter and laughter and think how wonderful it is to have everyone safe and sound under my roof again for that short time. Delicious and beautiful , something you can't buy, thank you. Linda
Oh, Linda, yes, yes, yes! What a gift when we parents can "fall asleep in the most beautiful place," eavesdropping on our grown children, come home!
Having just spent time with my oldest for the first time since last May, this echoes with such depth. My daughter lives 12 hours away, so the in person visits are few and far between... and feeling her presence still in my house after she is back home in hers is priceless. Heal well, dear Phyllis and thank you for turning your heart into this poem. ❤️
I suspect there might be a poem hiding in your daughter's abiding "presence" in your house, though she has departed again. Anyway, I'm glad for your reunion.
Oh Phyllis, this is so beautiful 🙏
I echo what Victoria shared in her comment ❤️
Thank you, dear heart.
This is lovely...I can almost feel "all the doors of the house throw their arms open wide..." I hope you are fully better soon!
Thank you, Valerie. I'm getting there!
That is so beautiful! My sister, who lives in England, is visiting. She was last here two years ago. Your poem speaks of how hearth and heart rejoices when she's here.❤️
Oh, wonderful! Have a beautiful, precious time with your sister!
I love this poem, Phyllis - you so perfectly capture the tension between the deep longing for connection with your son and the odd disassociation of Covid, where all the objects in the world are charged with meaning but the self is diffuse - and maybe that’s a metaphor for the inner life in general.
Hope you’re feeling better 🙏🏽
You describe it so well, Martha—thanks for articulating so well the feeling-state that gave rise to the poem! (And yes, I'm feeling better.)
I don't think it needs anything else. Glad to hear you have the energy for this and hope you are on your way to recovery. 🤗
I'm on my way—which is probably why I noticed and corrected a mistaken pronoun! 🤪
Now that is dedication 😉 Just please be good to yourself and let your body heal. COVID is one of those illnesses where you can't muscle your way back to the land of the healthy. We eagerly await your return, but it's important to give yourself that gift of time. 🤗
I hear you. Your'e so right about "not muscling your way back." This is my second experience of COVID, and the first was a month of the hard stuff. This time, I feel fortunate at the end of the third week to be getting some spunk back. Sometimes it's still like somebody yanks my plug and I just lose it. Getting there, though.
Oh those precious times with our darling sons...
This written to celebrate one such time:
For Dylan (son of the waves)
Travel with me
my darling son
to the memory coast
where we rested briefly on the ragged fragile cliff
of your hard won fifteen years…
and remember the day we painted your world.
You must recall, I’m sure,
the waves of blue, rolling seas over sand coloured walls,
an ocean unfurling,
as we,
armed with brushes and brooms,
washed and splashed and laughed out loud
suspended on ladders
high in that salt Freo air.
You then, my young Ulysses, tender of heart,
innocent eyes
unseeing what hardened straits were yet to come…
Thank you for your precious memory of Dylan.
I love the poem's rhythm, Jan. And you put me right there beside the two of you. Thank you so much for sharing this, sister-mother!
I feel your heart in your reading the beautiful words to your loving son. Thank you for this morning meditation in Minnesota where your son has returned to. Blessings on your healing.
Thank you, Lydia. Remind me, please, of where you are in Minnesota?
What a gift as I imagine your poem. Sorry for your having to lay back to back masked with your son, and oh such grace to be so creatively intimate in love and welcome. I hope your son's homecoming will bring you back to wellness. Your way with words reveals you have come down right as you live breath by breath. Deep gratitude.
Thank you, Lorraine. I'm on my way back. And my son's visit, though not what we'd hoped, was true blessing.
A wonderful and unexpected perspective. Closeness alongside distancing. Bravo.
Thank you, Poet.
This is gorgeous Phyllis.
Wishing you a full recovery. August will be here before we know it. 🤗
Ain't that the truth? And I'm fortunate that our family will be together elsewhere before August—once in MN and once in MD!
Oh Phyllis! That is so touching, loving and real. Your words and poem reveal your deep embrace for your son. I am sorry you have been unwell. Through it all, you remain creative, talented and kind hearted.
Just following the nudge, my friend . . . And I'm getting better!
Phyllis, what a beautiful poem that reflects a beautiful relationship with your son. The two of you are blessed beyond measure to have each other! Thank you for sharing. Sending healing vibes your way!❤️
A mother knows, yes, Myrtle?! ❤️