Ode to Photography

present and past.
Frozen moments,
remembered and forgotten.
ordinary and extraordinary.

Photographic power
reveals in light and dark
what my mother looked like as
a young girl,
or my father as
he welcomed me to the world,
or myself
as I smiled between
brother and sister
whose faces are only visible
in black and white now.

Lost faces, missed warmth, people
linger in shades, lines, and shapes,
like hieroglyphics of the past.

Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham

Notes: For World Photography Day today, I offer this ode, in gratitude for how concrete my memories are, of times past.

Song for a Friend

White and red rose of sharon

My love is like the rose of Sharon and the lily,
Abloom among brambles,
So is my love among the daughters.
As the apple tree thrives in the wood,
So is my love among the sons.
I sit among them with great delight.
The flowers open on the earth;
The birds sing, and even the voice of the turtledove
Is heard in our land.
The winter is past, and the rain has gone.
O my dove, hiding in the clefts of the rock,
In the secret places of the cliffs,
Let me see your face,
Let me hear your voice;
For sweet is your voice.
— Paraphrased from Chapter 2, Song of Solomon (KJV and ESV)

To a friend whose inner beauty
Casts a radiance that warms us all,
And who finds peace and joy in this world
Despite her underlying sadness.
Even as your spirit grieves,
May you be showered with love.

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: This is dedicated to Morgan, whose loss is fresh. To have been loved is the best feeling of all, and it never fades.