before the birds sing
& yellow daffodils unfurl
pour yourself a teacup of mint & jasmine
& write your story of regrets on the pages
of notebook: line by line
the words appear waiting as if motionless
the verses turn wanting as if suspended
you know all of them, lingering at edge of light
beautifully absent
but you have learned something by now
you have not mourned them
you burned your bridges
Posted for dVerse OpenLink Night,hosted by Mish. Inspired by Tuesday's Poetics prompt on bridges. Thanks for the visit.
I love the conclusion... the mourning is a bridge to what was, but unless you take care to remember the bridges are gone.
ReplyDeleteThis links up well with Merril's prompt from Tuesday. Perhaps once we acknowledge that those bridges have been burned, we can finally let go...
ReplyDeleteHave not been here for a while and was immediately reminded how clean and crisp your writing is. You focus is always a deep one, but seemingly written with a light heart - I envy you that... A lovely piece.
ReplyDeleteA wistful poem, Grace. I love the lines:
ReplyDelete‘pour yourself a teacup of mint & jasmine
& write your story of regrets on the pages
…
the verses turn wanting as if suspended’.
This is excellent Grace.
ReplyDeleteEarly morning tea (coffee for me, please), birdsong & writing...right up my alley, Grace.
ReplyDeleteGreat work.
I look forward to such a time when sitting down with the memories brings no hint of dark at all, or light. Beautiful conveyment of a complexity hard to put into just a few words.
ReplyDeleteI love the play on words in the title. There is often a mourning we must cross through and sometimes we need to rebuild the bridges to do it....when we are ready. This line was striking...."you know all of them, lingering at edge of light".
ReplyDeleteGrief's arrow if straighter than most of us are able or willing to see. And how we squander its long shadowy hours hoping for a reprieve. There is a heart inside the heart of this, waiting, perhaps, forever? Is that what we learn?
ReplyDeleteBeautiful words and I love the way you blended the words morning and mourning in the title! ��
ReplyDelete"you have not mourned them
ReplyDeleteyou burned your bridges"
I read this as mourning the time lost to regrets. Sometimes bridges need burning. That is the lesson.
you have not mourned them
ReplyDeleteyou burned your bridges
Many would have committed the error of not caring of the consequences of little things that may turn out later to be big.
Hank
This is beautiful!
ReplyDeleteVery nice Grace! Writing is a way of putting things to rest... and burning bridges.
ReplyDeleteThis is exquisite, Grace.
ReplyDeleteThis brings some light to mo(u)rning and burning bridges. I love the images and plays on words. And the layout of the broken lines. April is Anniversary time for me too.
ReplyDeleteGrace, I hope that my comment posted. This is lovely.
ReplyDeleteThose last two lines are quite haunting.
ReplyDeleteI resonate with Mo(u)rning tea - as it usually accompanies watching the news. It is always lovely to read you, Grace.
ReplyDelete