Part 3 of 3 - FINDING CLOSURE WITH A FINAL GOOD-BYE

part 3 of 3 

In my eyes, it almost seems like a lifetime away,
Though the tales extend beyond my generation and then some,
A flood of memories flash me back to the start of my time.   

Like the dust clouds left behind driving dirt roads to our cottage
Much remains a blur of nostalgia, some clear as yesterday,
Over the hill, a few driveways in, stands a part of my life.  

Summer breaks and random days are my earliest memories,
Then as years passed by, it became at most a week in transit,
Sadly, my career robbed me of extended summer visits.     

Early on, I looked forward to returning every summer,
Even when summer days were longer and hours were shorter,
Making rounds to spend time with my blood and chosen family. 

Several years passed since the transfer of the caretakers took place,
Leaving a lifetime of memories and a part of their soul, 
Its what made our lives just all that richer than many others.      

Keys to being caretaker ended, with no formal farewell,
Entrusting the new caretakers will create their memories,
Allowing them time to navigate and learn their own pathway.  

Leaving our footprints, we walked along the dew dampened driveway,
I heard faint voices become clearer conversations quickly,
Finally, our paths crossed with introductions and happy tears. 

Engaged in chatter, like lifelong friends separated for years,
Taking time to let the senses absorb the reality,
I allowed my emotions to take over not common sense. 

My memories of my childhood always bring me back here,
Even returning now, as a middle-aged man, nothing’s changed,
Appearing time stood still, yet, something seems to have changed today. 

With every step taken and each word said, Dad’s presence was felt,
As Mom and I walked around the cottage and the property,
Yielding time for us to both have closure with one last good-bye. 

 

THE CREATURE IN THE QUANTUM JUNGLE

The Somatic Series:  Poetry Workshop #4 at MadArts

I stared at the people,
    Touching what looks like
        hundreds of freshly purchased door stops or springs, 
            perfectly mounted inches apart,
    on a dark painted blackboard,
which appears to be a creature in a dormant state of slumber.

With the warmth of human hands,
    gliding over the cold springs,
        each yielding soft sounds,
            with a flash of louder colors,
     lighting up the room,
as if the creature within was awoken.

I watched some,
    who have gentle random gestures,
        in awe of a light show they received,
    as if it bashfully blinked and said thank you,
for the comforting touch.

I watched others,
    who have more vigorous predictable motions,
        in return received a larger display of emotions,
    with more colors than before,
as if it was defiantly disturbed from its peaceful rest, 

I watched it recoil to its quiet,
    hibernating self, 
        the board becoming dark again,
            its voice silenced,
                 once the last patron left the room, 
            only to repeat its cycle,
        with the next wave of patrons,
    about to enter the realm
of the creature in the quantum jungle.

 

Part 2 of 3 - COTTAGE CHATS THROUGH THE EYES OF ITS CARETAKERS

part 2 of 3 

 

“Come in!”, said the caretaker, with a warm, welcoming smile,
Opening her cottage, to us, the previous caretaker.
Telling tales today of yesterday’s happenings over tea,
Then, question if tomorrow’s tales will be shared in the same way.
As if they were lifelong friends, picking up where they last left off,
Giving each other the priceless gift of time spent together. 

 

Enjoying moments of creating many new memories,
Taking a portion from each tale, like a jigsaw puzzle piece.
Reaching over for the last piece to complete the conundrum,
All of a sudden, they see, there is more than one piece missing.
Not any one piece, but their own tale and one additional,
Subliminally suggesting the tale will never finish. 

 

For many Hungarians who pulled resources together,
Each bought property and built their cottages near each other,
Reflecting on a time when all were for one and one for all.
Keys opened the doors to friendships spanning over sixty years,
Once again, proving lifelong friends became chosen family.
Vacations brought them together to share yesterday’s stories,
A time when daily life in cottage country was much simpler.
Cheers to those filling time with reflections, traditions and dreams.  

 

Seamlessly uniting generations with their conversations,
Talking for hours, not realizing how fast time passed by.
Only the cottage remains timekeeper and guards all things shared.
Here’s to the new caretakers and those from generations past,
Understanding how each plays a part of the cottage’s tale. 

 
Summing up their visit, with one last embrace and a few words,
Silently whispering, “See you again, sooner not later.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PART 1 of 3 - OPENING THE DOOR TO ECHOS OF YESTERDAY’S

part 1 of 3 

Before I was born, my parents already marked their choice lot,
Envisioning where the future cottage’s foundation would sit.
Slightly perched above the water’s edge on the granite escarpment,
To enjoy perfect views of the bright green trees and dark blue river.

My memories of spending summers at our cottage remain,
Unlike others, it is as clear as if it were yesterday.
Summer days were shorter, despite having much longer hours,
Keeping children and adults taking delight in every day.

Our common threads bind both souls with a bias of shared stories,
Knowing very well, nostalgic memories are shared freely.
Although splendid summers and wonderful winters inspire,
Conversations of past springs and autumns aren’t forgotten.

Opening cottages in spring and closing in autumn tells me,
The seasons of time keep moving forward without a rewind.
Then, with the summer’s end, cool whispering winds of autumn whined,
As cottagers prepare for winter’s hibernation decree.

Gathering inside for warmth, now that the bitter cold sets in,
Elders shared stories handed down from generations prior.
Seems to help make long days have shorter hours pass by quickly,
Until spring arrives with its vibrant colors and songs to please.

Making it known, nature’s out of its slumber, ready to play,
Marked with warming temperatures, wildlife’s songs and blooming flowers.
Eager to welcome the summer’s first sun rise down by the bay,
Ready to meet with friends to create more memories again.

Excited to meet and greet the cottage's current caretaker,
Visiting felt like friends reunited after a long absence.
Extending and accepting an invite to stay and visit,
Reveals there are no good-byes, just memories that can't be bought. 

AN ANTHEM OF UNITY AND DISARRAY

I was born,
In our great country,
American all throughout.

I question,
those true patriots,
missing the country, we once were.

They answer,
we’re not united,
we became more divided.

I bleed red,
like fallen soldiers
defending all our freedoms.

I bleed white,
like peace offerings,
our country provides the world.

I bleed blue,
like the vast oceans,
separating our two worlds.

I bleed stripes,
like the history,
of our young, growing nation.

I bleed stars,
like light from each state,
standing united as one.

I bleed pride,
like many others,
who were legends before me.

I bleed too,
like those citizens,
born or those who chose to be.

I bleed choice,
nor am democrat,
nor am a republican.

I am me,
an American,
I too, bleed red, white and blue.

Regardless,
creed. race, religion.
ethnicity or origin.

We are one,
we are united,
we are all Americans.