My first books of poetry were given to me by my mother. At the time I was studying different styles of poetry in elementary school and found that I loved it, even if it was one of those things that I wasn’t the best at. It wasn’t until several years later, when cleaning out some boxes from the storage room, that I found a slim red-covered notebook with ‘A Collection of Poetry’ written on the front page in my mom’s elegant cursive.
(Seriously, her cursive is so beautiful that it reminds me of calligraphy. I lament the fact that cursive wasn’t as important during my learning years as it obviously was during hers.)
Inside of the notebook held a lovely collection of works that my mom had written throughout her life. Many of them were written for people that I have never met, but my favorite one is the first one inside the notebook. It goes as follows:
Dawn I saw my daughter just today, All rosy pink and new. My precious little gift from God Shone fresh as morning dew. I saw my daughter just today, Her chubby hands still held Her favorite doll, a circus clown, All ragged, smiling still. I saw my daughter just today With pigtails curling round, And tied with ribbons, white and pink, Dressed in my evening gown I saw my daughter just today With rouge and lipstick on, High heels and all the latest styles: My little girl was gone. I saw my daughter just today, A woman now, full grown. Her beauty took my breath away; Oh, how the years have flown! I saw my daughter just today, So still and white with death. I pled with God with all my heart, “Please, do not take her yet!” I saw my daughter just today, She talked of memories sweet, And of tomorrows we will share When once again we meet. I saw my daughter just today, A promise in her eyes. “Someday I’ll be with you again, We’ll say no more goodbyes.” I saw my daughter just today. “Keep close to God,” she said. “Draw comfort from the things He says And death won’t be so sad.” I saw my daughter just today. “It’s time for me to go. My love for you is always here Because you loved me so.”She wrote this for her cousin when she lost her daughter. I don’t think I was even born at the time. She says she was cooking dinner at the time she received the call from her sister-in-law. Mom had to stop what she was doing, sit down and just write this.
“It just flowed.”
I still can’t read this poem without crying no matter how old I have gotten and how many times I’ve traced her words.
Written for Suzie’s Weekly Challenge: http://suzie81speaks.com/2014/06/08/weekly-word-challenge-books-poetry-and-prose/
Breathing In 