Thursday, March 22, 2007

At the Beach...

We talked about poetry, about the economy of words, about how words rise as currency not for sale but for spirit. And it all spoke to me about the reality that our stories are poured into novels, essays, poems, songs, paintings, photos--to say something that cannot be said--to offer a fragment of the self which calls out, "Yes, I was here...I did exist...this is what it looked like to me." So, here--it looked like this:

I am still feeling quiet--still working hard to polish my words. Spring has come and I am still waiting for the magnolia to bloom in the front yard...for the leaves to break open on the trees...for the rains to come. I am writing and nursing my eldest girl back to health after a wicked bout of breathless illness...trying to understand what it feels like to hold my daughter in the steam of a bathtub to get her lungs to open up again, breathing in deeply myself because I can--how fragile and strong mothering makes me. My baby looked decades older after my short time away from son wanted to know "if God created the Universe and everything in it then who created God"...and the season makes me wake up and get outside, my arms wreathed with scratches from battling the untamed garden, my hair smelling green when the day ends. I am writing and reading the pages of indecipherable notes from the writer's conference I attended...tracking down books by some of the authors there who drew me up and out of myself. I am writing and writing and writing...returning to my center.

from Returning to Center
by Renee Gregorio

Listen to the wood and how it sings,
he writes,
the moment of its splitting.

I've been listening so long
to the sound of splitting;
now I want to know
the sound wood makes when it's whole.



Blogger Becoming Amethyst said...

Oh I have missed you and your wonderful words, Delia Moon. Call me sentimental but I am crying now. Beautiful images (I particularly love the lone gull) and words as ever. Sending you LOTS of love x x x x x

12:53 PM  
Blogger Vanessa said...

It's so refreshing to see you back again -even if it's only a flying visit...
Thank you so much for dropping by... it warms my heart to feel your presence!
So glad that your girl is regaining her strength. It must have been so distressing for her, poor babe.
I love these beach photos and, as always, your choice of words.
Sending you smiles and wishes for inspiration while you work.
Love, Vanessa xxxx

1:00 PM  
Blogger angela said...

"how fragile and strong mothering makes me" i am nodding in agreement.
it is good to read your words and see your photos again.

1:40 PM  
Blogger Beaman said...

I love the photos, especially the lone seagull. I live by the sea myself, in south east England and these beautiful birds are always in view. One sits upon my chimney pot every morning and another on a wall waiting for bread crumbs. It has one leg but has been around for years.
Nice work!

2:36 PM  
Blogger la vie en rose said...

your words here, the poem, the photos, it was all just wonderful and truly a blessing to my day.

3:10 PM  
Blogger Kamsin said...

That poem is stunning, thanks for sharing it.

3:15 PM  
Anonymous acumamakiki said...

Oh I've missed you! I was so glad to see your comment today - knew you'd have something here. I love this...'my hair smelling green when the day ends' that is the beauty of spring. xoxo

4:06 PM  
Blogger paris parfait said...

Oh Delia, so good to read your beautiful words again and see your gorgeous photos. Hope your daughter is soon feeling much better. I'm pleased to hear your writing is going well. Thanks for sharing the powerful poem, as well. Much love, Tara xo

5:15 PM  
Blogger daisies said...

it is so wonderful to read your words again, to see the beauty you capture with light ...

happy to hear you are working hard, enjoying your family and writing writing writing .. feeling quiet is a good thing sometimes, part of our cycles i think :)

5:28 PM  
Blogger Emily said...

This was beautiful, beautiful. Both the words and the pictures. This puts me in the space of spring.

5:46 PM  
Blogger Kim G. said...

Your words were like rain on a dry day! So good to hear that you are writing and enjoying your days. Blessings and healing to you and your family. (And I LOVE your son's question! I love how they will articulate the doubts we all have and are sometimes too afraid to ask!)

6:11 PM  
Blogger Tammy said...

I'm so sorry your baby has been ill. I love your writing and can't wait for full return. Loved the pictures.


6:37 PM  
Blogger Amber said...

OH! That poem!! Those words could be my own. Gah, that is good.

I have missed you, too! But it is okay, because you are writing. That is good. But I still miss you. ;)

...Yes, mothering breaks us and builds us. It introduces me to myself over and over. You said it beautifully and ALWAYS.


10:54 PM  
Blogger Kimberley McGill said...

So good to feel your presence here again. Your words never fail to move me. Hope your girl is doing well and you continue to enjoy silence and "polishing" - and the poem -- yes.

12:21 AM  
Blogger Deb R said...

Those photos are beautiful and the poem you posted is lovely. I was so pleased to see you pop up in Bloglandia again. It's great to "hear" your voice!

12:51 AM  
Blogger Crafty Green Poet said...

I love the lone gull too! There is always so much character in a gull.. Hope your daughter feels much better soon....

9:21 AM  
Blogger bee said...

so many people have said what it is my own heart that i will leave it...i have not visited as often as some, but i will be back for more, your words just gently cracked me open, to allow for spring to grow.

5:35 PM  
Blogger Patry Francis said...

I've missed your words. This reminded me why.

6:04 PM  
Blogger Susannah said...

i've read your card (it was here when i got back from my sister's, such serendipitous timing)... and now i see the photos, and i love them.. i miss you :-) x

2:40 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I've missed your words. Amazing and gorgeous. This: " fragile and strong mothering makes me..." just brought an ache to my throat. In so few words, you captured EXACTLY the kind of mother I want to be.

I hope your daughter is feeling better--and I'm, as always, amazed by the sheer beauty of your writing.


3:35 PM  
Blogger Nessie Noodle said...

I love the bottom two photos...
things will happen, just give yourself time.
I really like how you talk about forcing your creativity, sometime that is what has to happen, I think maybe the word force is wrong, though. Maybe, the idea of letting go of what the we thought was posible in the previous moment? letting yourself let go of where you think you need to be can sometimes open doors to where you can go....

1:04 PM  

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