… an Era Expires

[Harklight]

This follows my 2008 poem, which honours our family's first adventurous international traveller: daring in times when girls should have lived at home. Val travelled extensively, built a career, married and settled in London.

She brought her entire progeny across the globe to learn what "family" means. After our families united, all of Val’s children returned to England while she quietly stayed, travelling and renewing relationships with her closest kin until …

… an Era Expires

Delivering her entire family from across foreign lands
we already knew Val’s vibrancy was rapidly dimming.
Her cherished days amongst us would be few, so we
filled each with laughter, veiling eyes, often brimming

Her progeny had known only few cousins and roots:
familial notions were negligible until we congregated.
Another brazen "Val mission" was easily accomplished
when effortlessly, the younger generations integrated.
Within us, they identified many principal, kindred lives
entwining theirs, reinforced before an epoch negated.

Val has never surrendered this homeland’s essence.
Her life is afar: she didn’t pine to quickly return there
and so remained, etching memories, eternally ingrained
preserving the nuances, closely bound to sustain her.

Fragile health began to weaken; distant home called.
Reluctantly, we each whispered our ultimate caress:
caring words to intrepid, valiant Val, whom we adore.
Fittingly, so that we would never forget her vital spirit,
on Anzac Day, annually set aside to recall the fallen,
close-knit kin felt Val release life’s grip … and soar![/center]


~~~~~~
Copyright ©

[Jamie~poetshare.forumotion.com]

First, an aside: this is the second poem that I've read in two days that has mentioned Anzac Day.

Here we get an intimate glimpse of your Ancestral Matriarch, etched indelibly into your memories with the strength of character she embodied in her youth, full of that "vital spirit" you write of. Having just been surrounded with Norm's country-spanning family at his grandmother's graveside, I cannot tell you how much the first stanza here rings so, so true.

Wish we were all so lucky as to be able to trace our families back thus. Alas, half of mine (Iroquois) were slain by the other half (French and English). *shrug*

[Saffron]

Ali, my dear kindred spirit. This is a reminder of how important it is to know and recognize the personal realization and history of the circle. Both in actions, emotions, generations passed and those to come. I feel tears because you know the circle is a circle. I'm not explaining well because I felt it so deeply. I made you a cookie. While you eat that I'll push the exalt thingy.

[carousal]

A very interesting write, Val must have been quite a woman. There is a rapidly growing interest in genealogy over here the bug has bitten my wife who is avidly tracing her own ancestors.
My own background is a little unusual, my mother due to her sparkling personality, was the centre in my early years. She never tried to dominate or be the centre of attraction, she just was. She was an accomplished pianist who had studied at the Royal Academy and though not quite the grade of a soloist was a sought after accompanist. My father, a minor government official was a quiet somewhat a grey figure, I wonder sometimes if he resented my mother’s intellect and bearing.

O h dear, sorry I’m rambling on. I can’t quite find a pigeon hole to place this piece, a prose poem or a story poem? No matter it was a quite fascinating read and that’s all that matters.

[Harklight]

cos Anzac Day is April 25, Jamie. Val died in London that day, far from “home”. Though she wasn't my Matriarch I knew in childhood, she was one of the Elders I related to later. I also knew her mother and 96 y/o grandmother. Not all of the aunt's, uncles or "cousins" will ever meet and yet many of us followed Val's lead. It must be difficult, not knowing extended family.
Yes, Lady B: you and I both know it IS a circle. I'm sorry for your tears but know you understand. In large families, births and deaths are hand in hand: history repeats. Thank you for the Exalt!
My mother is also a pianist Cari, (with nine fingers); her cousins are still professional musicians. Genealogy hit a peak here about 15 years ago. Our strongest thread is that each generation has at least one gifted musician. Grandfather's lineage goes directly to Johan Strauss. Four are gifted in this generation while my daughter plays virtually any instrument except keyboard: she’s proficient in nine at last count.
Not every write need fit a pigeon hole: this is simply a rhymed poem.
Thanks, I appreciate each of your comments. I will never forget. H x