Presence (by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay)
BY a sense of Presence, keenly dear
I, who thought her distant,
Knew her near.
By an echo that most sweetly woke,
I, long keyed to silence,
Knew she spoke.
By her nearness and the word she said,
I, who thought her living,
Knew her dead.
I, who thought her distant,
Knew her near.
By an echo that most sweetly woke,
I, long keyed to silence,
Knew she spoke.
By her nearness and the word she said,
I, who thought her living,
Knew her dead.
Isabel Ecclestone Mackay (1875 - 1928) is a Canadian writer I came across last year in a book of poetry I mentioned here. I distinctly remember a poem of hers called "Halloween", but was not able to find it online, although there were a couple sites with several of her other works. When I had gone looking for that particular one, I came across the above and had saved it, not knowing quite how it fit in with my life, until earlier today ... when I found a penny.
After mom died, when I was tidying up stuff around the house, I found a penny. Then when I went to do something else, I found another. Not with other coins, just single pennies mixed in with miscellaneous matter. This happened on at least four or five different occasions in a year or so. Two years later I moved to my house, and in the years since, after I had settled in, I would be tidying up and found a penny at least three times. Today, when I was cleaning up the living room, I found a penny at the bottom of a basket. I know for damn sure I didn't put it there. I do know that there were times when I may have been in need of guidance, or something along those lines, and that finding a penny felt like an assurance of sorts. Lately, I have actually found myself asking for guidance, perhaps even a prayer for assurance... and... I found a penny.
Posts
6 comments:
Thanks for sharing that story. It tugs a bit at even my heart-strings. I am not big on poems, but even it was nice. One of those ones that even I could sort of relate.
Big smile =D
Ralphd00d:
You just got me to thinking that it is rather odd that I have always had such a fondness for poetry, considering that I prefer words to be used sparingly and succinctly, which poems for the most part, don't. But... this one manages quite well. Of course, it is also rather dark, which I seem to relate to very well.
D:
Your comment just reminded me of a line from a movie... "You could see the bright side of the plague."
Plagues do ease the waiting lines at Wallyworld; and are a boon to the real estate market.
Chuckles.
Post a Comment