April 27, 2017

  • Looking to Touch Base

    He holds my hand
    Tightly for security and balance
    Refuses to let go
    No manner of coaxing convinces
    That the world is safe
    So he holds on

    He totters on
    My large palm cradles his hand
    I note his improved balance
    Persuade myself to let go
    His cry melts my resolve and convinces
    Me to hold on to keep him safe

    I’ve padded corners to make it safe
    Placed bumpers and cushions on
    Every sharp spot my hand
    Encounters trying to balance
    My need for safety with his need to go
    Places his mobility convinces

    A little push convinces
    And the fall happens yet he is safe
    With a bounce when he lands on
    The soft pillow I had at hand
    I have to consider the life balance
    Of his independence when I go

    Work demands I go
    His wave and smile convinces
    Me that he will be safe
    While I travel on
    The ghost feeling of his hand
    Casting me off balance

    Home and work is a difficult balance
    Every time I go
    His kiss convinces
    Me that he will be safe
    While I work steadily holding on
    To the moment I touch his tiny hand

    Soon the balance will shift from hand to hand
    I will stay at home and he will go on
    And he will be the one that convinces me that I’m safe

    This is a sestina. When I was first introduced to this form I tried it and found it to be difficult. Sandra encouraged me saying that it would get easier. I tried again and again. It never got easier. Here I am 10 years later and it is still not easy. The sestina is composed of 6 stanzas of 6 lines. The words that end each line in the first stanza are repeated in a different order at the end of each line in subsequent stanzas. The end is a tercet (3 lines) called an envoi where all the ending words are used 2 per line.

    This is a little comment on the independence of children. My sons were quick to want to walk. Once they figured out how to walk they immediately pulled their hands out of mine. However they would constantly return to me just to make sure I was still there. They needed reassurance that their "safety net" was available. In the larger scheme of things I'm pretty sure that eventually I will need to hold their hands...

Comments (4)

  • A lovely poem -- yes, the balance will shift as time goes on, and hopefully the boys will be there to hold your hand!

    • I'm glad you liked this one! I am counting on at least one of them being there for me in my later years...

  • I think that would be a hard poem to write. Sounds complicated to me. I had to have my children hold my hands last summer when I was so sick. I am so thankful for them.

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