Sunday, 23 March 2014

In Sunshine Flickers


It had been, some time 
since I had walked 
in fresh exuberant breezes.

The day was kind  
and smiled:

the sleepy trees  
stirred and stretched;

tufts of dry grass 
contended, indulgently,
with green whipper snapper shoots,
bursting about them;

and the air – the luscious air –
billowed through me,
cajoling dusty puffs of
winter soot from the cockles of my heart,

so that I felt restored.

My son, grown now to a man, 
walked with me:

something that, almost never,
happens . . . anymore.

And then, a lovely recollection
traipsed, in sunshine flickers,
across my mind – and I asked: 

Do you remember
how we would walk to the library? 

He grinned and, brushing
the bottom of my arm, replied: 

Afterwards we would walk
to the Red Lantern Cafe,
and you would buy me
wontons and plum sauce.

Yes, I remember.

That was a long, long time ago, I said. 
And my old heart soared. 

photo:  The Walking Path (the walking path in Jericho Beach Park in West Point Grey, just west of Kitsilano, Vancouver) – W. Bourke 

© 2014 Wendy Bourke

14 comments:

  1. smiles....wontons...i love them...we used to get them at a little chinese place called heaven when i was a kid...smiling with you at sharing the walk...and the memories....

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  2. Actually, I had that conversation with one of my sons, just yesterday. I had my children (4 in 4 years - and he is a twin) so I tried to do some one-on-one outings with each of them. He was quite little at the time, and I was surprised yesterday when we talked and he remembered that time together. It was, for some reason, a very, very nice feeling.

    And yes, wontons - after he brought them up, I talked my husband into making a batch with me sometime this week. I can't wait!

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  3. I think being with my grandson for almost 2 weeks has heightened my mother emotions...this had me crying by the end.

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    Replies
    1. I puddled up a wee bit myself. One gets to a certain age and the knowledge that one will leave behind others who carry a precious moment you shared - matters in a way, in never occurred to you that it would, when you were young.

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  4. it feels heavenly when someone treasures those little moments...love this promenade
    down memory lane.....

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  5. Heavenly. I couldn't have described the feeling better, myself. Thanks Sumana.

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  6. I teared up too reading this. Beautiful...just perfect.

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  7. When you get - that they got it (whenever that is . . . and whatever it was) - it's always, pretty cool!

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  8. here's what happened when I read your lovely poem. thanks!

    the air
    billowed through me,
    cajoling dusty puffs of
    winter soot from the cockles of my heart

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  9. Ah-h-h-h - Love it! Thanks, Janet.

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  10. A wonderful memory, Wendy. It must feel so good when a memory of yours is remembered by your son as well, what was important to you was important to him as well. My heart would soar too. Smiles!

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  11. That's so true, Mary. From time to time, in the hours and hours I have spent trying to shower a bit of joie de vivre upon a little child I have (on occasion) found myself wondering: is he even going to remember this? And, I know that's not really the point - the point being: that loving children become loving adults when they are surrounded by love in loving situations. Still, it's wonderful when they actually DO remember.

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  12. Such a beautiful memory.. and the confirmation when you share the memory too. It must have been a warm fondness for your son as well.. maybe he felt exactly the same... a confirmation of the importance... Love the way you portray it in the gentlest of tones..

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  13. What we remember and what we forget - is a bit of a puzzle to me. But I have found that, often, the gentlest memories return in peaceful moments.

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