Steve GannIn Celebration - Two Daughters
November 21st 2006 09:31
Out of Africa
Watching a Bob Geldorf special on Africa I watch children in danger from insane predators who believe they have magic powers and I think of my two daughters. One passed away in 2000 and the other is at the moment in Xalapa in Mexico. My younger daughter sends me fantastic emails of her travels through South America. There are pictures of Mayan ruins and shooting the rapids, her face split by a grin a mile wide. She is supposed to be studying but I'm not sure if it is her first priority. Sometimes she tells me stories which haunt her and disturb her a little, her time in Cuba and watching kids in some of the villages.
We watch the children and wonder what can be done. She on her travels, me watching TV in the comfort of my living room. By our children we are taught. More than anything they refresh our memories and our reason for caring.
Cradled in My Arms
This day brings home many memories anchored in my mind
Most filled with love or celebration of no particular kind
But also those moments that wrench and tear in the corners
Of our time reminding us that life has both richness in rewards
And of course a leaven of occasional bitterness, an outer rind.
As I rifle through my recollections bound up in old accords
Textured pages gently leaved, browned with love towards
A vision too much idealised, to endure close review
Other memories crowd and jostle into the room as if on cue
To add their own dimension to a patchwork assembly --
Dreams and fragments in the glass of yesterday.
My first memories of you were hardly flattering
From your perspective perhaps.
As you were lifted from your mothers womb
Everything seemed clenched. Your fists, your hands
Everything began to stretch. Your eyes fought against
The light.
Then later they brought you to me
I in a rocking chair, you wrapped in swaddling clothes.
It was our first time together. I sat with you,
We rocked as one, tears streaming down my face
You and I, trying to come to terms with our place
In the universe.
No matter what happens in my life,
Whatever happiness or tragedies begin,
No changes past or present can this memory ever dim.
I carry it with me now it beats in cadence with my heart
Keeps time with other frantic dances which distance us
But cannot cleave apart.
To Danielle for her birthday: 21/6/2001
Watching a Bob Geldorf special on Africa I watch children in danger from insane predators who believe they have magic powers and I think of my two daughters. One passed away in 2000 and the other is at the moment in Xalapa in Mexico. My younger daughter sends me fantastic emails of her travels through South America. There are pictures of Mayan ruins and shooting the rapids, her face split by a grin a mile wide. She is supposed to be studying but I'm not sure if it is her first priority. Sometimes she tells me stories which haunt her and disturb her a little, her time in Cuba and watching kids in some of the villages.
We watch the children and wonder what can be done. She on her travels, me watching TV in the comfort of my living room. By our children we are taught. More than anything they refresh our memories and our reason for caring.
Cradled in My Arms
This day brings home many memories anchored in my mind
Most filled with love or celebration of no particular kind
But also those moments that wrench and tear in the corners
Of our time reminding us that life has both richness in rewards
And of course a leaven of occasional bitterness, an outer rind.
As I rifle through my recollections bound up in old accords
Textured pages gently leaved, browned with love towards
A vision too much idealised, to endure close review
Other memories crowd and jostle into the room as if on cue
To add their own dimension to a patchwork assembly --
Dreams and fragments in the glass of yesterday.
My first memories of you were hardly flattering
From your perspective perhaps.
As you were lifted from your mothers womb
Everything began to stretch. Your eyes fought against
The light.
Then later they brought you to me
I in a rocking chair, you wrapped in swaddling clothes.
It was our first time together. I sat with you,
We rocked as one, tears streaming down my face
You and I, trying to come to terms with our place
In the universe.
No matter what happens in my life,
Whatever happiness or tragedies begin,
No changes past or present can this memory ever dim.
I carry it with me now it beats in cadence with my heart
Keeps time with other frantic dances which distance us
But cannot cleave apart.
To Danielle for her birthday: 21/6/2001
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