Riding The Crest of a Wave

cradled in your arms
without a doubt i know
I can't travel that far back
though my heart song tells me so

soul pours forth its love
like a fountain overflowing
I embrace the ash of you
in silence not for showing

in birth i was your pain
in death you remain with me
until tomorrow's last farewell
when the tides will set you free

Reviews

[Lorry]

Don't know how I missed this one Chris, but beautifully written.
Gives me thoughts of how a woman brings us all into the world and the birth pain isn't the only pain they feel, but the pain of having to do better than the last generation did.
She did do an okay job though, didn't she? 😊
Beautifully penned, as ever.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you for that lovely review. Yes. She did well. Very well. Hope you have a great Sunday.

Chris

[William Michael Reeves]

I rode the nice rise and fall of your wave of words. The ash of you stanza is pretty striking, if I could use that as description. I wish we could time travel. Good poem Chris.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Bill for your encouraging review. I always appreciate your thoughts and I wish you a happy weekend.

Chris

[Robert Haigh]

Highly poignant and quite touching. I lost my mother a long time back, when she was just 48 years old. She never met my wife, let alone her grandchildren. Sad, but such is life sometimes. Good memories live on, and I suppose we have to be thankful for that. Your poem clearly contains a lot of pain, but also a lot of love!

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Robert for your lovely review. How sad your mum died so young and wasn't around to meet your wife and family. I count my blessings, my mum was 89 when she died. She left behind children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and one great great grandchild. I hope you have a happy weekend and you are enjoying this recent heatwave.

Chris

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Such powerful and delicate misery, such unspoken sadness between these lines. Nothing is so precious as a mother's love and nothing can replace that part of our being. This brought to mind the memory of my own sweet mother.