Gravity

[TheFifthElement]

It is night, or early morning
in my daughter’s room. I lie awake
squeezed on her fevered bed, listening.

She is a smudge, a whimper
in the dark.

Her sorrow ebbs and flows
like the tide, catching here
and there on the rocks,
rising

without traceable source;
a flood, a cruel trick of gravity?
If it can’t be stopped we may all drown.

Moonlight bleeds into the room
in long, silver strands attaching
to the bed, the walls, the carpet

gold as sand.
We are pulled along, a boat
floating on the surface of night,

light in the absence of sleep.

Pain ripples like a current,
so close that I can see it
stirring underneath her skin,

and she reaches as though my body
was an island, or a cove offering
sanctuary;

but we are riding the same wave,
she and I, at the mercy of a force greater
than love,

or gravity.

I throw to her the only lifelines I can give;
a soothing touch,empathy,

a mother’s voice whispering

‘hush love, it is only the moon.’

[AuntShecky]

Sweet, subtle, universal. Yes, the moon is the source of
"gravity" with all the connotations of that word.
Well done.

[motherhubbard]

a wonderful poem. the language made this so tangible and easy to relate to.

[PrinceMyshkin]

It is night, or early morning
in my daughter’s room. I lie awake
squeezed on her fevered bed, listening.

She is a smudge, a whimper
in the dark.

Her sorrow ebbs and flows
like the tide, catching here
and there on the rocks,
rising

without traceable source;
a flood, a cruel trick of gravity?
If it can’t be stopped we may all drown.

Moonlight bleeds into the room
in long, silver strands attaching
to the bed, the walls, the carpet

gold as sand.
We are pulled along, a boat
floating on the surface of night,

light in the absence of sleep.

Pain ripples like a current,
so close that I can see it
stirring underneath her skin,

and she reaches as though my body
was an island, or a cove offering
sanctuary;

but we are riding the same wave,
she and I, at the mercy of a force greater
than love,

or gravity.






I'm not altogether sure what those lines would mean, whether the poem ended there or not, but I do very passionately feel that that would be a more appropriate place to end.

Either way though it was so painful to read this, the feelings in it were so frangible.

[symphony]

And to think my mom only thinks of paracetamols when i catch fever! :(

The caring tone in this poem is lovely, fifth. And of course the way the moon "bleeds"... :nod:

[jon1jt]

I think it's a pretty poem, I love the first stanza. There's a bit too much repetition for me after that drowns out the message to the child at the end.


Her sorrow ebbs and flows
like the tide, catching here
and there on the rocks,
rising

without traceable source;
a flood, a cruel trick of gravity?
If it can’t be stopped we may all drown.

Moonlight bleeds into the room
in long, silver strands attaching
to the bed, the walls, the carpet

gold as sand.
We are pulled along, a boat
floating on the surface of night,

light in the absence of sleep.

Pain ripples like a current,
so close that I can see it
stirring underneath her skin,

and she reaches as though my body
was an island, or a cove offering
sanctuary.

The ending is okay, cute. 'Gravity,' eh. It's one of those concepts I sort of get, but am not affected by, like poems that point to God or sorcerer as invisible hand.

I captured the soultie between mother and child. Very beautiful.

[firefangled]

I have no criticism of what you have captured here.

One of my earliest memories is a night of hallucinations from scarlet fever, my mother there through the entire ordeal.

I see nothing out of place, nor over done. The fact that you start in a sort of lost time is perfect...


It is night, or early morning/
in my daughter’s room.

...and that you end up still in a confusion as to what exactly to do,


I throw to her the only lifelines I can give;/
a soothing touch,empathy,/a mother’s voice whispering

the last line is given a power it would not have.

Your poems for a long while now have been masterful in what they hide, be that a meaning, or a feeling, or a bond, as in this case. Sometimes I have to read them (a pleasurable task) several times before that comes through. This one was no exception.

[kiz_paws]

Your poems for a long while now have been masterful in what they hide, be that a meaning, or a feeling, or a bond, as in this case. Sometimes I have to read them (a pleasurable task) several times before that comes through. This one was no exception.
Well put, firefangled :)

I enjoyed the caring tone of the poem and the definite soul-tie (as Jon mentioned):

but we are riding the same wave,
she and I
Good stuff :thumbs_up

[TheFifthElement]

Thanks everyone, I've been forcibly disconnected from the internet for a little while (might as well have cut off my arm!) so I'm still digesting all your replies. Thanks for all the kind comments, this was, I think, an attempt to assuage my guilt having not been overly sympathetic at 3:30am!


I'm not altogether sure what those lines would mean, whether the poem ended there or not, but I do very passionately feel that that would be a more appropriate place to end.

Either way though it was so painful to read this, the feelings in it were so frangible.

Yes, perhaps if I was braver I would end it there.


The ending is okay, cute. 'Gravity,' eh. It's one of those concepts I sort of get, but am not affected by, like poems that point to God or sorcerer as invisible hand.


Not affected by gravity huh? Perhaps this explains your more unique view of life, it must be fun floating constantly in space ;)

I see your point though. It was, I suppose, more of an analogy of being at the mercy of a force completely beyond your control, and the feeling of helplessness that follows. Not God, or invisible hands, but something entirely more tangible but outside of our scope of influence. When your child is sick or in pain - particularly in pain, there is nothing you wouldn't do but nothing you can do, yet you still try even though everything you try is hopeless, pointless. I'm not sure there is any greater helplessness in life than this.

Cute! Of course cute, cute and meaningless and pointless.


I have no criticism of what you have captured here.

One of my earliest memories is a night of hallucinations from scarlet fever, my mother there through the entire ordeal.

I see nothing out of place, nor over done. The fact that you start in a sort of lost time is perfect...
...and that you end up still in a confusion as to what exactly to do,

the last line is given a power it would not have.

Your poems for a long while now have been masterful in what they hide, be that a meaning, or a feeling, or a bond, as in this case. Sometimes I have to read them (a pleasurable task) several times before that comes through. This one was no exception.

Thank you firefangled for this - I'm glad you picked up on the lost time, it has that sense doesn't it, sickness, where time makes no sense and everything's a blur, and in this case slightly different as it's the mother experiencing these things, rather than the child. Thank you so much for your kind comments :)

and also to Aunt Shecky, motherhubbard, kiz, symphony :)

[AuntShecky]

If you go to Lou Reed's website, the song "Gravity" plays over and over. It's "catchy" though.

[Pendragon]

As one who often goes through a phenomena called "empathy", mine to the point of actually feeling the other person's real pain, I find this a beautiful poem. I think that all parents possess empathy with their children. You actually begin to feel the pain and suffering they they go through and there is one thing that you also know. You can take them to the doctors, to specialists, give them medications, but you can take that pain even if you feel it, you can't take it away. Your hands are tied. That's Gravity. Maybe not in the sense of pull on Earth. It is a grave matter you cannot stop, and you ask why and there's no answer. Gravity. I'm stuck here and I can't do anything. Gravity.

Great poem, Fifth

Pen

[TheFifthElement]

If you go to Lou Reed's website, the song "Gravity" plays over and over. It's "catchy" though.

Thanks Aunt Shecky, I'll check this out :)


As one who often goes through a phenomena called "empathy", mine to the point of actually feeling the other person's real pain, I find this a beautiful poem. I think that all parents possess empathy with their children. You actually begin to feel the pain and suffering they they go through and there is one thing that you also know. You can take them to the doctors, to specialists, give them medications, but you can take that pain even if you feel it, you can't take it away. Your hands are tied. That's Gravity. Maybe not in the sense of pull on Earth. It is a grave matter you cannot stop, and you ask why and there's no answer. Gravity. I'm stuck here and I can't do anything. Gravity.

Great poem, Fifth

Pen

I get the feeling you really understand Pen, it makes me sad just thinking about it, sad and anxious. Thank you for this :)