It is Never Too Late to Have a Happy Childhood
This piece is an experiment, a response to a prompt from the lost and found folks over at DVerse. The prompt shares a few poems about loss, and then suggested that we "write your poem as response with the resolution of finding, being found or returned etc."
One of the poems shared was this brilliant piece by one of my favorites, Ricardo Eliécer Neftalí Reyes Basoalto (12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973), better known by his pen name and, later, legal name Pablo Neruda.
Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig
and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips:
maybe it was the voice of the rain crying,
a cracked bell, or a torn heart.
Something from far off it seemed
deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth,
a shout muffled by huge autumns,
by the moist half-open darkness of the leaves.
Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig
sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance
climbed up through my conscious mind
as if suddenly the roots I had left behind
cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood–
and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.
Pablo Neruda
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It is Never Too Late to Have a Happy Childhood
I stopped dead in my steps;
an aroma from my childhood
pulling me back across the years,
the wandering scent dropping me out of the now.
Ceramic slip and plaster molds smelled of loam
mixed with baking heat from the kiln,
and I am ten years old, working hard and learning how.
Leeching moisture to build a shell,
learning secrets older than the written word.
Soil and silt become urns, bowls, vases and art,
revealing Earth's stories though my hands.
Life steered me away from these pursuits,
driving over my happiness like speed bumps.
An online provider only too happy to ship me supplies,
I will try my hand at reliving golden moments long gone.
I would love to know what you thought about this piece.
Please consider leaving a comment.
Smell is such a powerful trigger for memory. I hope the speaker finds the satisfaction they need.
ReplyDeleteChris, your "found" poem is full of light, twinkles, and hope, reminding me that too often small victories slip by unheralded. Your aced the prompt, and even though you and Bjorn used the same "lost" poem, your creation is uniquely your own.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed reading and re-reading this poem - you capture the evocative sense of Neruda's poem and have put your own distinct stamp on it - it feels like recreating the pottery skills the poet once knew
ReplyDeleteI like your title, which is also a quote by Tom Robbins, one of my favorite authors. Your prescription, that he do now what he did before that made him happy, is a solid idea. I wish more people would do it.
ReplyDeleteit is great when a smell triggers memory. loved the line "revealing earth''s stories through my hands"
ReplyDeleteI agree with what Sarah wrote in her comment: "Smell is such a powerful trigger for memory."
ReplyDeleteYou really nailed this response, Chris!
-David [ben Alexander]
I love how you have found your way back to your childhood through the craft of clay... good luck with your pottery.
ReplyDelete