Skipping Stones

About holding on to moments, living inside them, letting them live inside you and more about letting them go and moving on, like the rock in the river, rolls downstream...

One and one half inch squares,

numbered.

Red ink slashes

one box at a time,

ticking away

the silk of this baby's cheek

brushing mine,

peacefully suspended,

and I

record it all,

drenching myself in pixels,

hoping

to never forget

this moment.

I stand at the edge of the shore,

these waters

reflecting.

Ripples flow out in perfect circles,

echoing the stones I throw

into this pool.

I reach down

to grasp a round, smooth

piece of earth,

ready myself to toss it

to the current.

His hand brushes mine,

sand dust falls to the ground,

blood pulses softly.

I look up

seeing…

A pink and blue sky,

clouds moving slowly

away from me.

I swallow the burning sun

as it rushes toward the horizon.

This stone in my hand,

its red gold veins

woven through pockets of once soft clay,

sparkles

mirrors of starlight

back at me,

tell my story.

I hold it and...

I am floating through a window.

I see the candle by her bed.

The breeze through the window

tickles the flame,

carries her last breath

into the wind.

It rustles through the leaves.

They fall to the ground

and I see…

The water crashing on the rocks.

Feel his hot breath in my ear.

Waves crash over me

and I let it go…

I am rolling,

rolling

over the sand, into the sea

holding with me

these moments…

her nightgown rustling,

my eyes

following the sunlight

out the open window,

his heart beating against

my chest as it aches;

it is never enough.

This babies soft breath on my cheek

the light surrounding me.

The hands of the clock are silent,

its pendulum,

still…

while he sleeps,

and I am dreaming

I can keep him here. 

Reviews

[xx]

I see that this is an older piece - from 2009, the description says. I also see now that your uncanny ability to write so well is a genuine product of talent, not just sweat and blood - this particular poem was powerful and moving, and though the language is soft and flowing, there's a powerful sadness beneath the words that impresses the gravity of every line and stanza into the reader's mind.

You use such vivid imagery to bring your words to life, and your descriptions are breathtakingly beautiful. The structure of the poem, too, gives it life - I don't even know how you do it. :)

Again, wonderful work! Please do keep writing. :)

-Mina

[Coyote Poetry]

A very nice journey into thoughts and emotion. I like the way you use the language. Allowing the reader to feel the desire and the passion. Complete poem flowed with a tenderness and a hopeful movement. A very nice ending to a excellent poem.
Coyote

[Bare trees]

I can only agree with the others whose reviews are much more elegant then anything I can say. Time moves on and if we are wise, introverted or reflective enough, we want to hold on to every minute and cherish them as they pass before it's all over. Another great poem I'm glad people recognize.

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

It pleads for the reader to relax into the medium and enjoy every dripping word, well done, good read.

[Eagle Cruagh]

Penetrating memories, touched by
love, by life and by God.
Spine chilling, tingling wonder.

This would make a great advertisement in
that no one would be able to resist.

This is fine writing at the very best.

When you lost this Angel he became yours
forever. This Angel is with you wherever you
turn---In the rock, in the ripples of the stream
and in the very air you breath.

No one could do a greater euglogy than the
one you have just delivered in this poem.

Wonderful !

100 %

-----Eagle Cruagh

[Freder Fredersen (aka G..]

Very cool piece. It's like being in a room where slideshows are being shown on every wall. And all of the pictures are crisp and vivid. Imagery abounds.

Cheers!
FF

[Charles D. Moorer]

There is a lot going on in this poem, a lot that I like. That pebble skipping across a lake, the image of candle in the bedroom, the wind taking her last breath is quite powerful as it speaks to the fragility of the human condition: we can writer beautiful prose to describe our condition, the condition, and yet we can do nothinig to stop the onslaught of time, and yet "I am dreaming I can keep him here." Very nicely written, the tenor and tone are highly evocative.

[Creepy Swine Guy]

When I read this poem, I see moments from a memory flashing across the theater of someone's mind. And it feels like she is trying or at least wishing that she could slow the unyielding march of time.

Upon second read ... those little squares ... they ARE the seconds, yes? the slashes indicating that they are gone to us?

These are the feelings that are stirred in me when I read this and as much as I love this poem ... it hurts. Mortality.

[The Little Writer]

Very deep. I don't see the meaning becuase I'm a minor :)

[Kristina Moulaison]

That's funny since you are in part the inspiration for it, my sweet! Remember when I told you to stop growing up? G.H. was right. It is about me wanting to stop the hands of time, hold onto these fleeting moments. I love you!