Read this poem carefully, please. It is a narrative of an extraordinary experience, and simultaneously a chronicle of the second-most common experience we all share. This event took place decades ago. Events like it take place every day. Yet, their commonness grounds the root of their power. Nothing affects nor changes us so much.
Broken hearts. Broken open hearts. Opposites yet linked events for each of us. “The Priceless Gift.” On the surface, a literal identification of the “gift” appears easy. Below the first layer, however, emotions abide and combine in unpredictable ways. Relief. The loss of will to exist. Honeyed remembrances. Regrets. Pride. Gains from the years past. Losses from those same years. Love and grief combine and avert each other in the aftermath.
“Gone, closed, heavy, unsaid, heavy, ominous, black.” Frightening words.
“Light, heart, friends, unchained, rises, bright, priceless gift.” Words of contentment and hope.
Do you see the intra-winding?
Others gather to acknowledge the significance of such events, but they are rarely so assailed as the one whose loss is greatest. And there is always one.
Read carefully. Beware of the haunting. Be aware of the joy. They intertwine with closeness and variance. Untangling constitutes the great matters of life.
A Priceless Gift
a bitter cold day
in january
frozen hands
frozen feet
frozen ground
broken heart
he’s gone
forever
sympathy cards arrive
willing friends render help
hesitant
heavy-hearted
teeth closed
on unsaid words
mutterings of disbelief
tens – twenties – fifties
ominous silence
“Tightwad!” blares Jo
unchained laughter
rises to the ceiling
black turns bright
coffee and chattering
the card-sender
will never know
the priceless gift
her “one-dollar” bought
Shelia Olson
Background
We avoid speaking of death and grief, much less taking time to consider them and memorialize the events on ink-scattered paper. Shelia is courageous and here dares to share her experiences with one of the “great matters.” Shelia lives close to us in the grand Beltrami Island Forest. We have known each other for about 25 years. Over that time, I have been inspired by her presence and her magnificence in her roles as wife, mother, lady of the Forest, and matriarch of her family. More than most, she demonstrates the invincible spirit of the Northwoods. The Wannaskan Almanac is honored to present today one of her creative works.
Exploration 1: Why does the poet write “january” with a lower-case “j”?
Exploration 2: What does the word “frozen” reveal in the first stanza where it appears three times?
Exploration 3: Does this poem do justice to its subject?
Exploration 4: The opening paragraph of this post calls the subject of today’s poem “the second-most common experience we all share. What is the first? (Note: This is not a riddle.)
ReplyDelete1. He left in January. The month no longer merits a capital.
2. New grief burns like ice. It feels like it will never leave. Nothing can melt it except laughter shared.
3. Yes yes yes
4. Death. The second is watching others die.
I'd say that you score 100% but that's too flippant for the tone and dark beauty of this poem. Thank you for your comment.
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