Blue Stone
Today, he found a blue stone
and once again, his heart was broken.
His instincts said to toss it
furiously into the ocean
but, the red morning sunrise
brought forth numb and haunting memories.
A vision stood before him
an image of his wife, Natalie
smiling while rummaging
for sea-stones and finding a blue one
she presented it to him
as though it was a miracle-stone.
Since her life was endangered
and since both of them had hoped and prayed
for something or anything
he coddled her, though still terrified.
It was but a few short months
before she passed and he was alone.
Today, caught in memories
he reconsidered throwing that stone.
He remembered that her blue stone
had given her the hope to endure.
Now, he would place his blue stone
alongside hers, next to her picture.
-
Author:
MendedFences27 (
Offline) - Published: April 16th, 2023 16:24
- Comment from author about the poem: People tend to cling to unusual things in times of danger.
- Category: Love
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments4
You made the connection very clear - not unusual at all, Phil; a very moving portrait of loss, grief and remembrance I'm sure many will relate to.
Thanks DD for your most generous comments.
You could not have given your poem a better title Phil .. it stands out from the page and sets the scene perfectly for the body of its entirety .. A more than merely moving series of treasured recollections and moments wrapped in a poem of their very own .. and most sadly of all such an enjoyable read .. Neville
Thank you, Neville. In some places of the world blue sea stones do wash up on shore. In other places they are very rare or not at all. The color blue does have some significance here in this poem. What could be sadder than two people doomed. I was not sure if I had made it a bit too morbid. Again, Thanks,
Such emotive words Phil and so true, it is those little odd things that we pick up in life that mean so much to us.
Andy
Thanks Andy, I guess today we both chose to write about stones. Yes, we cling to the little things in times of trouble. Thanks.
Brilliant!
('connectivity, a state of connate chemistry'
be it rock or feather, a polaroid pic
or that ticket stub from that last trip
we cling to things, that our fingers
can feel
to anchor our memories within
to safeguard our heart's, needs
to never let Time, ravage
that we most fervently, cherish...)
Thanks L.B. for a very generous comment. We treasure our memories sometimes beyond normalcy or relevance. I remember my grandmother would not let anyone throw out a beat up, falling apart sugar bowl. Apparently, it was a keepsake from her home as a child. Surely, "most fervently cherished." Thanks again.
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