Sumus quod sumus
Sometimes you have to break something in order to fix it
Once you break it, there is no guarantee that what is broken is not just more broken
There is no guarantee that things will ever be fixed
There is no guarantee the sun will rise tomorrow
Never assume you've hit bottom
If you're still taking breath, there is still room to fall
If you're still taking breath, there is still time to reach
Bootstrap or limb
Reach
Forever
Reach
__________
Sumus
quod
sumus
Sometimes
you have to break
something
in order to fix it
but once you break it
there is no guarantee
that what is broken
is not
just
more broken
There is no guarantee
that things
will ever be fixed
There is no guarantee
the sun
will rise tomorrow
Never assume
you've hit bottom
If
you're still taking
breath
there is still
room
to fall
__________
If
you're still taking
breath
there is still
time
to reach
bootstrap
or
limb
Reach
forever
Reach
18 comments:
There is no guarantee of anything.
"Never, never, never give up." ~ Winston Churchill
Hey tree,
I get my templates from Btemplates.com I really like them. They don't all always work, but a lot of times I can tweak them enough to play nice with blogger.
If you ever see something you like, let me know.
I really enjoyed the train post. :)
--snow
And some things, when they're broken, are just plain broken and there is no fixing them. It's a painful lesson to learn.
True. As long as there is life, there is hope...
Tree, that is an absolutely marvelous picture of your daughter in her beautiful wedding gown!
Congratulations!
Limes: true
Snow: thanks
Badger: you are wiser than I
Mona:the day was everything
a lament and a prayer,
pain poured from a dark well
a swirling sorrow
invisible fingers
constricting the breath
narrowing the eye
drying the tongue
I cried tonight
after my son reached out
to me;
he said
dad,
when we have money
again
lets play warhammer
whichever one
you want he said,
because I know
you would like to play
and we can play
together,
but I know we can't
now
because we don't
have the money
but when we do
let's do that
this is what he said to me
tonight
while I was booting
the computer
for him
I went downstair
and alone in the kitchen
placed both my hands
on the sink
I felt my cheeks rise
and my eyes narrow
and as if I couldn't
hold it in
my nose ran
before my eyes wept
I know we don't have the money
but when we do
how could a father
not cry
for love
and when the money
returns
there will not be enough
to pay
for what happened
upstairs
in a reaching
of a son
to comfort
his
father
Tree, is this lament, this prayer of you for yours, for yourself? Do you a son? Do you not the money for warhammer? Did you your hands on your sink? Could this not be more beautiful, poignant, raw, real? And if it's not real, well, it is anyways, isn't it?
Oh yes, there was a post before this, wasn't there? "Sumus quod sumus"...had to look it up. There's a lot of conflicting information on the internet regarding this. I'm shocked. Not really. So, the relationship between the parts and the whole is what I'm going with here. Is that so? Must be.
I am so excited that you posted it in two different forms. I was just thinking about form a few days ago, how it can influence the reading of it, the understanding of it, too. I read it the twice and read it completely differently between the two. The second read easier for me but the first read more truthfully. Funny that.
There are no guarantees for anything. Nothing. Not even sure on the sun. We might just assume that.
I was in an earthquake in Taiwan a few years back. First one. The walls moved like waves, an ocean born sideways. An important lesson. Never trust anything.
But then the world is full of such beauty, so much a gift if we allow it to be. To receive those gifts and beauty we have to trust. Trust everything.
And so it is, that we can only take from this moment that which we can recognize. We need to revel in that.
Wow, lot of questions. Let me see if I can answer them.
(1) the lament and prayer was for me
(2) I have a 15 yo son
(3) My company went bankrupt six months ago; my savings are three weeks from being exhausted; I met my obligations fully to the wedding of my daughter last Saturday and to the college tuition of my other daughter and a not inconsiderable expense of a very ill pet; earlier this week I had to stop a monthly investment I started when my son was born, saving for his college; I had to close a savings account I can't keep open; I've had to cancel everything that is not a direct bill, of which I can maintain doing till the first of next month. So, there is no money to buy game pieces, rather expensive plastic pieces of a game.
(4) Yes, I placed my hands against the sink for support
(5) It is real. Everything written happened; the poem was written early in the day as I was working on my resume and calculating my budget and expenditures; the bit in the comments was later in the evening after I'd picked my son up and we were visiting upstairs; what is so interesting is that I felt he had been slipping away from me and engaging him over the summer and before that had been very difficult; when he reached out to me like he did last night, it just broke my heart.
(6) Sumus quod Sumus (we are what we are)
(7) I too like how form shapes meaning: the first version posted was written just as you see it without any intention of ever posting it; I was just writing to bleed the pain; if fact, the original bit ended with the line "there is still room to fall" further. I took out further and added the rest, but the rest is just added, the real lament ends with the word fall.
(8) I reworked the form in the evening; just felt the thoughts deserved a little dressing up. So the top version is just the naked rawness of pain; the second version, well, not sure what it is.
(9) the last six months have been interesting; there are no guarantees. None.
Oh, Tree. I say less than many who comment on your posts. However, THAT is the best writing you've ever done. I need to go walk on the deck in the sun. I have to leave the monitor for awhile.
Repeating Churchill.
Limes, I think a walk would do me some good too. Don't go to far. It's hot out. :-)
Sometimes, I break things on purpose, because whole things aren't always whole, and the pieces need to be picked up, one-by-one, in order to understand the parts and parcels that once comprised it while it appeared to us, unbroken. And sometimes "whole" doesn't mean unbroken, but drop it to the ground, and if it makes the sound of a drumroll, it may be mended to become, perhaps, more beautiful, more precious, than it ever really was before.
“When the Japanese mend broken objects they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold, because they believe that when something's suffered damage and has a history it becomes more beautiful.”
Trée, two children, in a time, not so very long ago, will tell you stories of a mother, who forgot to eat, so her children could be fed, and though her clothes were falling off of near bone, she fed them rich with laughter. They would tell of times when the electric might be shut off, and they'd play shadow puppets by candlelight, and Trée, there are times now, though now they're teens, they'll both ask not to pay the bill, and I know when they've said that, they have a need to return to times, when the most important things in the world, were merely "us" -- and love, between us, and our laughter.
Trée, my dear friend, there is beauty in the broken times, we just have to look with different eyes, when we arrive there, and spin gold in the cracks between the broken and the mending. And the mending will come.
S., this might be the most beautiful comment I've ever received. It speaks to something inside me, something I know to be true. That you would take the time to respond, the effort and thought, and do so with such wisdom and grace and elegance, well, I don't know what to say. Thank you my dear S.
Tree, I'd say I'm sorry I asked but then I'd be someone else. It is my nature. But that you responded as you did, there is the beauty.
You are waiting to be picked up from a riverbed. You're under the water. It flows. You might feel regular rock but what is revealed is so beautiful even a girl's fingers wouldn't dare to move you. You are beautiful where you are.
And yet. and yet. There are bolder fingers out there. Such practiced fingers. And above them the most startlingly perfect words. A mouth as moon, she calls to you. She speaks the language of sky and earth and rock. You hear her. She sees you. Would you please, please fall in love.
You are falling, are you not?
She has her arms out.
You two are like planets. You two pulse with some energy I've not sensed before. You two. Tell me there is more.
Forgive me if I'm wrong or rash. Again, it is my nature. I'm pretty sure I lack an edit button.
(S. responded perfectly to all.)
Erin, even your comments are works of poetic art. I love the images you create, your intuition, your honesty, like pure cane sugar. As for this energy of which you speak, I feel it too, as I've never felt it before. Intoxicated is the word I keep using but it is more than that, magical, a swoon from the first parting of lips, of life escaping, seeking, wanting, needing. I cannot explain it, this ordering of words, this weaving of nouns and verbs into some potion, some spell. Something mystical, of stardust and moon glow, of willow caressing root, pulling forth, a releasing, a binding. Yes, I sense it. I feel it. Like the morning sun on my face. A warmth. A new day. A blue sky. And maybe a little rain in the afternoon.
Sounds like many things converging at once. Sending peace your way...hopefully some of it makes it across the miles.
Thanks OB. I'll meet it halfway if I have to. Lord knows I need the miles in the saddle.
wonderful piece.
Thank you Cat.
Post a Comment