Ruth Ayres invites us the celebrate each week. Click over to her site Discover. Play. Build. to read more celebrations.
In the month of April, the whole Kidlitosphere lights up for National Poetry Month. There are so many exciting projects going on.
The gatherer of all Kidlit poetry postings is Jama at Jama’s Alphabet Soup.
Today the Progressive poem is here with Joy.
Click the NaPoWriMo button for more about daily writing prompts and poem sharing.
I am writing a poem-a-day to images. You can join me by leaving a poem in the comments or a link to your blog. Use #imagepoems on Twitter. Today’s image is Spanish moss. It hangs all over the trees in my neighborhood.
Columbarium
Moss crawls like skeletons in the trees,
a lacy tent for playful squirrels.
Even my cat, usually lolling and lazy,
joins in the chase, paws at the waving ghosts.
The moss speaks to the heavens,
the heavens that opened up with wind
and a storm yesterday when we placed
your ashes in the dovecote
outside the church
where you can live forever
in the eyes of God, or, at least, I’ll
say hello when I pass by on Sunday.
We do not know what time
has prepared for us
to walk in or to walk out
with ashes on our foreheads,
and now you are ashes in the tomb.
What does this say about the squirrels?
Do they know something?
Who are they chasing?
–Margaret Simon
Process: When I wrote the poem to this image of moss, I had returned from a funeral for a church member. I did not know him well, but every funeral is a deeply spiritual experience. And I was moved by the sudden wind and heavy rain that fell immediately following the placement of his urn into the columbarium. I looked up columbarium on Wikipedia and found the word origin of “columba” refers to the compartments used for doves, dovecote. I somehow think Charles will like playing in the trees with cats and squirrels. And now that I have written it, I will say hello to him when I pass each Sunday.
When I read your poem and studied your photograph; I considered protection. Spanish Moss seems very protective. I will let this idea mull around for awhile as I consider the spirituality with which you wrote this morning.
Thanks for this perspective of moss being protective. There may be a poem in that.
I suspect that this man, Charles, will be smiling about now that you wrote a poem about the moss and about saying goodbye.Since we don’t have it here, the moss has always been so beautiful to see when I’ve traveled south, an “extra” for the trees. I like the idea that it “speaks to the heavens”.
He did have a raw sense of humor, Linda. Thanks for your comments, always.
When I saw the image of the Spanish moss, I thought, I bet this is a post by Margaret!! And it is! I love the poem. I love your enthusiasm about National Poetry Month. It is the nudge I need today!! Thank you.
Nudging you softly, Sally, to play along with poetry. You never know where it may take you.
The poem created a lasting connection, even though you did not know Charles well, now you will greet him often. Even those we do not know well can leave a lasting impression in our lives.
So much beauty in your words Margaret! It’s powerful how you noticed the details in nature and made connections with your poem to Charles’ life.
I love Spanish Moss. The pairing of the picture, poem and backstory is wonderful. Thanks for sharing what shaped the poem.
It’s comforting to think that someday you will still be saying “hello” to me on Sunday mornings after I’m gone.
Spanish Moss always gives me a feeling of loss and decay and sorrow, your poem has moved my hear to look at it in a different way.
I love your juxtaposition in the first stanza: moss as skeletons, a lacy tent, and waving ghosts. All marvelous images for the moss. I have to agree with you that every funeral (and every baptism) are deeply spiritual experiences.