Forward Motion (A First Step Lesson)

To Logan, my neice

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Last week, over tears, he took his final step

Forward, then back, wobbly and uncertain

Before days of bed, then inevitable sleep

Confusion set in and his will drew the curtain.

***

Yesterday, over giggles, I held out my hands

Her eyes opened wide, determination shone through

She studied the floor and the fear of her plan

A first step of many in her life she would do.

With unsure stance, she leaned slightly forward

The inches between us to her charted miles

Shaking but deliberate, her left foot lifted, then

settled before her as she looked up and smiled.

***

I considered things lost held up to what's gained,

pondered beginnings and endings the same,

hurdled dichotomies in this wrinkle of time,

weighed pureness of beauty against rage of pure pain.

In her eyes lived a message before then unseen

If the Lord truly giveth, then taketh away

Alpha, Omega, and all in between --

Is just celebration for growing and change.

Comments: 7

Linda G. Jul 27, 2006, 1:13pm EDT

Nothing stands still. You paint the paradox beautifully, J. The stanza, "I condidered things lost..." is particulary poignant and could even stand on its own~so pure and brilliant. I've had many losses of late. Thank you for this poem regarding the duality of life. Condolences on your loss and much joy in what remains...

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John F Walter Jul 27, 2006, 7:32pm EDT

This effortlessly lovely 20 line free verse poem metrically structured so well in iambic pentameter takes us from death to birth in a few steps, but leaps into the void of regeneration with a passion I have rarely seen. When my father died of a sudden stroke 22 years ago, I remember how seeing my friend Joseph S.'s brand new baby could not take the grief away, but gave me a sense of life's continuity at the church just after I'd delivered the eulogy as the oldest son in a Catholic family must.
This poem gave me the same deep anamnesis of truth. I especially found the penultimate (and climactic) stanza immaculate in all respect, and fit like a keystone into your arch of renewal:
"I considered things lost held up to what's gained,/pondered beginnings and endings the same,/
hurdled dichotomies in this wrinkle of time,/
weighed pureness of beauty against rage of pure pain."
Please write more for us, my dear. Your voice simply needs to be heard, for its compassion, loveliness, and grace.

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J. Johannes Jul 27, 2006, 9:14pm EDT

Linda and John, I love poetry best when it serves as a true reflection to the reader, so I'm glad this served that function for you. I too am sorry to hear of your losses ... I guess we are all lucky that we can be certain there is always hope to get us through the challenges.
Thanks so much for reading, and for your generous comments.

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