All in Each Others’ Arms

Last year about this time, a time of birthdays, I wrote this for Emily, our eldest grandchild.

FullSizeRender (22)Dear first born
of my firstborn daughter,
we whirl in gentle
of love and understanding
imagine lives without each other
remember how it was
knowing how it will be after
but all the while holding
that which will never be lost
never be forgotten.

Images of you in my father’s arms,FullSizeRender (20)
of you first walking
in grass with flowers
even as he was going out,

swirl now with your babies

all in each other’s arms
for good.

June 5, 2016
For Emily, on the first birthday after she bore her first daughter.

IMG_2320Now, I put it together with a painting we bought yesterday, “Music in the Night,” a small landscape by Barbara Stafford-Wilson, from her current show at PDX gallery. She did it from memory, of a night they heard a fisherman singing in Cadgwith Cove on the South coast of Cornwall.

Apple blossoms are in bloom now. I add them and the smell of apple blossoms opens another layer, a sheen of light, shade, timeless.

The realities blend no less because they blend only in my mind.

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