Let Me

Heather on a Stone Wall

Let me be the shadow
under your bloom,
the stone that
lifts you,
the lichen that
breaks rock to soil. 

Let me be the rain
that quenches
your roots
and the sun
that wakes
your dreams.

Let me remember
each day
of our love.

Copyright 2018 Brenda Davis Harsham

Notes: For my mother, who taught me that love never dies. Gone these 47 years. Still, I miss you. Happy Birthday, Mom.

51 thoughts on “Let Me

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  3. Brenda, this poem is breathtaking. Your images are fresh and so appropriate for a love shared by parent and child. It strikes me that the poem can be read from two perspectives – the parent speaking to a young child, or a child speaking to a parent who is being cared for near the end of life. It sounds like you didn’t have your mom long enough to experience the latter. Thank you for sharing your beautiful tribute.

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  4. This is so beautiful, Brenda. It brought tears… good ones, remembering my mother who has been gone too many years. I thought about Molly’s poem “How to Approach a Frog” (now you are wondering where I’m headed…) over on Nix the Comfort Zone… anyway I commented about it being “good for living” and she replied that it also addresses mourning — “the shift from missing what we have lost to celebrating what we had.” I think your poem is that kind of a beautiful celebration.

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    • Yes, I’ve made that shift. I think it should be the last stage of grieving, past acceptance. To gratitude. Every particle of me remembers with joy. It’s so hard to express the depth without being maudlin, but those were the words that came this year. Thanks for reading.

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