A Timely Passing

[RiverNotch]

(I'm not sure if she'll appreciate this -- for most of the family, English is not the first language. Still, it's yet another thing to offer, and I don't know how much time we have left -- such is why this is a little rushed. Critique especially welcome, not because I'm a masochist, but because, if I am offering this, this has to be at least competent.)

Driving home, the rains
foreshadowed that afternoon
by distant cracks of thunder
finally fell, as if
to match our tears. But no! Our God
wept only once.
That night, he was rejoicing,
watering his earth, granting his creatures
new life, sweet mercy.

Tita, heaven is the canopy
of the little grove behind
your sister's kitchen. The stars
are the blossoms of the dragon fruit trees,
the walls are the leaves, the foundations the suha fruit,
and the mansions of the hosts
the nests of fire ants.
Cloaked in the red of bruises, you
who were once our sister, our aunt, our grandmother,
are now uplifted, are now crowned
queen of the brood, mother of Zion.

I know you've seen this before,
perhaps when you were washing the dishes
after last month's fiesta, the one which celebrated
the founding of the barrio. That is why you don't weep.
That is why God chose you.

[QDeathstar]

Hi, I think the preface makes the poem stronger, and although it was meant as not part of the poem, personally I'd keep it if you were showing it anywhere else aside from the addressee, ofc.


This middle stanza is very strong. In the third stanza, I was trying to figure of what she had seen before? Her death, death, it's not clear...

There are also a few typos

[Lizzie]

(I'm not sure if she'll appreciate this -- for most of the family, English is not the first language. Still, it's yet another thing to offer, and I don't know how much time we have left -- such is why this is a little rushed. Critique especially welcome, not because I'm a masochist, but because, if I am offering this, this has to be at least competent.)

Driving home, the rains
foreshadowed that afternoon
by distant cracks of thunder
finall fell, as if -- Final? Finally?
to match our tears. But no! Our God
wept only once.
That night, he was rejoicing,
watering his earth, granting his creatures
new life, sweet mercy.

Tita, heaven is the canopy -- the personal address is tender and lovely
of the little grove behind
your sister's kitchen. The stars
are the blossoms of the dragonfruit trees,
the walls are the leaves, the foundations the suha fruit,
and the mansions of the hosts
the nests of the fire ants.
Cloaked in the red of bruises, you
who were once our sister, our aunt, our grandmother,
are now uplifted, are now crowned
queen of the brood, mother of Zion.

I know you've seen this before, -- I agree that it's not clear to us what she's seen before, but I'm guessing that your recipient will know.
perhaps when you were washing the dishes
after last month's fiesta, the one which celebrated
the founding of the barrio. That is why you don't weep.
That is why God chose you.

Hey RN, I think it's lovely. Something to be treasured -- it's a gift of words that not many can give.

The only thing that I would be mindful of is the admonishments against crying. Some people find the message 'don't cry' to be helpful and grounding; I would find it stifling and harsh. I think that glorifying stoicism can exacerbate someone's grief process if they need to let things out but they can't because everyone around them wants them to be "strong" or a "rock" for the family, you know? It really depends on the personality of the recipient and the place they're at with their grief.

But it's beautiful, and I say well done.

[kolemath]

(I'm not sure if she'll appreciate this -- for most of the family, English is not the first language. Still, it's yet another thing to offer, and I don't know how much time we have left -- such is why this is a little rushed. Critique especially welcome, not because I'm a masochist, but because, if I am offering this, this has to be at least competent.)

Driving home, the rains
foreshadowed that afternoon
by distant cracks of thunder
finall fell, as if
to match our tears. But no! Our God
wept only once.
That night, he was rejoicing,
watering his earth, granting his creatures since you capitalized 'God' above, probably should capitalize the pronouns here
new life, sweet mercy. this stanza strikes an interesting balance between the grief and celebration/renewal of death

Tita, heaven is the canopy
of the little grove behind
your sister's kitchen. The stars
are the blossoms of the dragonfruit trees,
the walls are the leaves, the foundations the suha fruit, minor nit but think on the consistency of the metaphor? different parts of nature symbolize different details of heaven; should a fruit be the foundation? seems like fruit would be something else: roots as foundation? that's a bit cliche but...
and the mansions of the hosts
the nests of the fire ants. to my understanding, 'hosts' as a biblical reference to war. fire ants do well to take this symbolism on
Cloaked in the red of bruises, you good word choice: 'cloaked' ..mysterious as death
who were once our sister, our aunt, our grandmother,
are now uplifted, are now crowned from cloaked to crowned, i like it
queen of the brood, mother of Zion. 'mother in' perhaps?

I know you've seen this before, to me, 'this' works. it's the grove behind the kitchen and, perhaps, heaven. i like a little ambiguity
perhaps when you were washing the dishes
after last month's fiesta, the one which celebrated
the founding of the barrio. That is why you don't weep. good matriarchal reference to barrio founding.
That is why God chose you. good last line, but the one preceding it confuses me a bit; of course she doesn't weep (in present tense); she's passed.

endearing without being to sentimental. i like it.

[RiverNotch]

thanks!
@Pdeathstar: i'll keep that note on the preface in mind. where, these typos? and if my punctuation choices were wrong -- especially unsure about the list in the middle.
@lizziep: not quite getting what you meant on "final". i've also ended up agreeing that what she saw before is unclear, and she probably won't get it, either -- starting to think of gutting it. also, i'll keep that note in mind, hehe.
@kolemath: oh, for that capitalization thing, i'm not too sure: it feels like an invention too English for a more Jewish/Grecian God. but I will think about it.
for the suha fruit, i was trying to keep with the image of the foundations of heaven in revelation, the one where there's twelve stones, and them fruits do look like really big, well, stones.
but then you got what "this" is, so perhaps i don't need to change it -- have to reaaaallly think about that. and she hasn't passed yet, but she's got acute leukemia that's already well spread, and she's old, and she doesn't want treatment anymore.

again, many thanks!

[Lizzie]

@lizziep: not quite getting what you meant on "final". i've also ended up agreeing that what she saw before is unclear, and she probably won't get it, either -- starting to think of gutting it. also, i'll keep that note in mind, hehe.

You have finall and I assumed that you has misspelled finally or final. I'm starting to think it might be a noun I'm not familiar with.

[Achebe]

a joy to read, especially S2.
I think dropping the second 'the' improves the lines below:
"the foundations the suha fruit,"
"the nests of the fire ants"

[RiverNotch]

@lizziep: not quite getting what you meant on "final". i've also ended up agreeing that what she saw before is unclear, and she probably won't get it, either -- starting to think of gutting it. also, i'll keep that note in mind, hehe.

You have finall and I assumed that you has misspelled finally or final. I'm starting to think it might be a noun I'm not familiar with.

massive whoops. didn't notice that even when reading yer crit, dang. gonna stealth edit -- should be finally.

and thanks for the crit, Achebe. i'll remove the the in fire ants -- not yet sure about the suha fruit, since for me it demarcates the whole metaphor more clearly.

also stealth edited: never knew the proper spelling was dragon fruit, not dragonfruit. so so.

[bluegypsea]

(I'm not sure if she'll appreciate this -- for most of the family, English is not the first language. Still, it's yet another thing to offer, and I don't know how much time we have left -- such is why this is a little rushed. Critique especially welcome, not because I'm a masochist, but because, if I am offering this, this has to be at least competent.)

Driving home, the rains
foreshadowed that afternoon
by distant cracks of thunder
finally fell, as if
to match our tears. But no! Our God
wept only once.
That night, he was rejoicing,
watering his earth, granting his creatures
new life, sweet mercy.

Tita, heaven is the canopy
of the little grove behind
your sister's kitchen. The stars
are the blossoms of the dragon fruit trees,
the walls are the leaves, the foundations the suha fruit,
and the mansions of the hosts
the nests of fire ants.
Cloaked in the red of bruises, you
who were once our sister, our aunt, our grandmother,
are now uplifted, are now crowned
queen of the brood, mother of Zion.

I know you've seen this before,
perhaps when you were washing the dishes
after last month's fiesta, the one which celebrated
the founding of the barrio. That is why you don't weep.
That is why God chose you.

Wow.  This is really amazing... it evokes so many emotions and such powerful imagery that it moved me almost to tears.  I really think your word choice and language use in this poem is excellent.  Such a strong feeling of sadness, yet triumph towards the end.  Thanks for sharing!

~blue