JULY 16, 2010 5:45PM

Loss

Rate: 45 Flag
IMG_3376web
copyright 2010 Maria Heng

 

Two hearts sparking life into secret being,
held close in the softness of love.
Bathed in the gifting of joy, 
A pure light that form could not hold,
ascending straight into the heavens.

And a mother weeps for the love
that can only be expressed in letting go,
as all love ultimately must.
Bowing with the pain of loss
that pries open the soul
readying it
for the unforeseen joys the future holds.

In remembrance and sympathy,
praying for blessings to be with you
in comfort, strength, patience, faith.
In the seeds that sow tomorrow's peace.

 

copyright 2010 Maria Heng

 

pp_award1279196185

Thank you, Dave, for selecting this for the 7/17/10 PP Awards.

 

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Comments

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I'm no poet and this is not poetry, just heartfelt empathy. Of course, all recommendations for improvement are always welcome.
All pain of loss is difficult. I can only imagine the unique difficulty of the pain of losing an unborn child. This post is just the expression of heartfelt empathy; I know nothing of poetry. It extends to sympathy for the loss we've each experienced at some level.
I love this for the lilting connections between pain, loss and joy and the seeds of tomorrow's peace. This poem speaks of such a profound surrender, such an acceptance of absence instead of the promised presence, and in that something unbelievable, alchemical, that pries us open readying us "for the unforeseen joys". I can hear your heart in these words, Maria. Beautiful! Sad, but beautiful.
A beautiful poem Maria, about the worse pain a parent can go through.
There is so much suffering that is experienced with the loss of a child, even an unborn, wanted child. The slightest felting pregnancy, if one knows of it and it is lost can be extremely painful, the pain of what might have been. So, this is a beautiful reminder of one kind of loss that seldom gets attention, unless you have the misfortune to experience it, or someone you love. Lovely work. R
Thank you Kathy and Jonathan.

Gail, thank you so much for the gift of what you found in this, especially "profound surrender, such an acceptance of absence instead of the promised presence". I keep coming back to touch what you have said.

Scanner and Sheila, my heart breaks just to imagine a parent's pain at the loss of a loved child, even an unborn one. And Sheila, I can imagine all the motherhood love that is triggered into being by the chemical, neurological, emotional and other unexplained changes of pregnancy. Only to have it abruptly aborted, and the confusion of having no waiting place to hold all that love turned to pain. Life sure has no shortage of creative expression for pain.

Sally, I am so moved by the way you held loving space for your sister during her time of unimaginable pain.
Beautiful, Maria. You have the soul for poetry. Keep doing it. R-
I am forwarding this on to two of my sisters who lost babies while they were late into their pregnancies. Although its been decades for them, the grief is still palpable. Your way with words is beautiful.
Wonderful, Maria. My sense of you is that you are a born poet. Keep doing it.
Lezlie
Sad but gentle and beautiful.
Compassionate, caring and from the heart.

Monte
I know little of poetry, either, Maria, but I know these words of yours touched my heart with their grace and beauty. A glimpse into your soul.
Maria,
Your poem has taken all of us on a mothers most painful journey, from the moment of conception to threshold of recovery. I hope she passes through, for I believe it is someone close to you.
In remembrance and sympathy,
praying for blessings to be with you
in comfort, strength, patience, faith.
In the seeds that sow tomorrow's peace.

These lines wrapped the pain in as much peace as possible-well done, Maria...and thank you!!! :}
You are such a natural writer. Your heart shines through, with such seeming ease.
This was beautiful. and the picture, too, was amazing.
Thank you each so much. A floor that needs mopping with the last bit'o energy I have left tonight prevents me from responding with more right now, and limits me to expressing simply that I am grateful to you for reading, commenting, feeling, encouraging - means a lot to me.
For someone who "knows nothing" you seem to know an awful lot. Rated for your grace with words and your large store of empathy
Scary good...and scary sad.

r--
This is really beautiful. The "heartfelt" has been truely felt.r
Very touching Maria, so well said. Are you aware of the Japanese practice of mizuko kuyo? It is a ceremony to honor those who have had a miscarriage, still birth or an abortion. Mizuko means water child and in Japan there are shrines to pay homage to these water children. There is some debate about the origination of the practice, many think it is Buddhist but others trace the practice back further.

A being that did not come to be is like water slipping through our fingers, I think it is a beautiful metaphor. I often wonder why we do not permit ourselves this elegant and compassionate form of grief and acknowledgement in Western society?

I am aware that those who have suffered miscarriages are often denied the sympathy they deserve, and the sense of incompleteness and mystifying, unacknowledged loss can have a terrible impact on the life of the woman and her partner.
Beautiful and full of emotion. I hope your friend finds peace.
Wonderful, sad, strong - The first line is my favorite but the entire piece is great.
So good...that I had to return to it!!!

And Ablonde; that was one of the best comments I have EVER read on OS!
The letting go, the surrender, the sorrow...
this is very beautiful. The Japanese practice of mizuko kuyo as Ablonde mentioned touches me deeply._r
Having experienced that particular loss twice, I am resonating with your fine poetry. Thank you.
Dave and Lezlie, thank you both. I am still discovering myself, and your perspective is a very nice surprise for me.

Marytkelly, to lose a baby late in pregnancy... such loss. my heart goes out to your sisters. Thank you for sharing this post with them - I think it is important to always remember, with love. Ablonde's comment below shares information of the "Japanese practice of mizuko kuyo... a ceremony to honor those who have had a miscarriage... and to pay homage to these water children".

FusanA, I am so glad to have brought gentleness and beauty to such sadness... what else? Thank you.

Monte, those were the places I wrote from and am pleased that that came through - I wanted so much to carry some of the pain away, to soothe a little, if only through witnessing.

Graham and Clark, thank you so much.

Hi Yalebno, thank you for coming by. I had only just met the lovely lady I wrote for but felt very close to her experience, felt her reigned-in pain keenly, and wanted very much to take that in so I could give it back a little lighter. She is finding her center again, and is surrounded by loving family which helps a lot.

Dear Muse, it was my deep wish to do so - thank you so much.

Wow Lea. I am? I must get used to this idea. Why not! Thank you very much.

Trilogy, i am discovering I can express myself visually, and discovering how much I enjoy doing so. It is like going on a journey... the picture reveals itself and I have to figure out how to portray it with no trained skills. I tried watercolor with this and it failed miserable. My husband, who IS an artist stopped me from throwing it away and suggested I use my color pencils over the watercolor instead of starting anew, as I'd planned. And so I was able to save the picture and convey what was wanted. What a lesson - we never know the ending point of anything, and the most unpromising or failed beginnings can still produce happy conclusions.

Hi Nikki! I really am discovering what I know, and because you say I know, now I can learn to also believe that I know that I know! Thank you very much.

Dear Will, I am so sorry for you both. So sorry you both lost Madeline, and so sorry for the ignorance around you that deepened your pain. That Madeline was so close to being in your arms, must make her presence in your hearts all the stronger.
Ablonde shared a japanese custom for honoring "water children" that you might like to read.
My heart goes to you both.

J D Smith and hugs, thank you both very much.

Ablonde, what a wonderful custom. It seems so respectful, acknowledging, healing. I had never heard of it and am grateful you have shared this here. I will pass it on. You have addressed this pain with such feeling sympathy and clarity. I really appreciate your comment here.
Linda, she is finding peace. Each week gets better. Thank you very much.

Amanda, sadness seems to require soft strength. Thank you.

J.D., I am honored. I love Ablonde's comment too, a real gem she has given and shared here.

Hi Joan, the practce Ablonde has shared here speaks very well of Japanese rites of release and honoring. I believe that if sorrow is not let go it damages. But it is rarely a clean, single thread and gets easily snagged on too many things to find its freedom. And we all need freedom from something. Thank you.

Dear Susan, I am so sorry. So much loss. And you are one of the finest spirits I have had the honor of encountering.
Ouch. Beautiful. R
Loss of a dream, rendered in a loving and tender way.
Beautiful, Maria ... your words, your poetry and your soul.

I love the line "In the seeds that sow tomorrow's peace" ... beautiful.
The lights that form cannot hold have got to be the best. rated.
Poignant piece of writing, and a lovely accompanying illustration to support.
This is a beautiful acknowledgement of loss; the last line is particularly strong.
for not being a poet, maria, you write a beautiful poem about a profoundly sad event, bringing some peace to someone in tears. this is very moving.
elegant and moving, Maria
beautiful...you know something about poetry...
I have "lost" children through miscarriage, though do not consider them lost because we know where each other is. It has taken me years to be at peace with it. This beautifully describes what I expereinced.
Poorsinner, I am so sorry, and hope you have found peace with the "what ifs..." and bring the gentleness of your own heart into this openness. Thank you.

Inquisitive Canuck, I am so sorry you, too, have had this pain. Thank you for your kind comment.

Jimmymac, SunnieGirl, Rita; thank you very much for reading and commenting.

Little Kate, thank you for your generous feedback, and I appreciate you telling what you liked best.

Caroline, it is very nice to read what you liked best. Thank you.

Greenhorn, I'm thrilled you liked the illustration - color pencil on watercolor, and it gave me much satisfaction to be able to produce it, to my own surprise.

Thank you Sophieh.

Femme forte, it is what I hoped to do - bring some peace in a way that moved gently, thank you for letting me know I succeeded. I really hoped so; pain is so hard to bear.

Thank you dear Greg.

Just thinking, well i never would have guessed, but it does seem some part of me knows something about poetry. Thank you. Heck, I'm putting Dave's PP Award up!

Mimetalker, I am so glad you have found peace with your loss, and and your way back to what was lost. I am honored you feel this post captures that healing path.
Maria: As always, well-chosen words put to touching and useful effect. Especially these:

"Bowing with the pain of loss
that pries open the soul
readying it
for the unforeseen joys the future holds."

Bravo.
You surely know a lot of poetry to write one so beautiful.
I rated this when I first read this but words failed me then. They still do. So, what everyone else said.
This is heart-rending, Maria. The contrast between the first and second stanzas is arresting. Well done!
"A pure light that form could not hold." That's lovely. A peaceful thought, in the pain.
This is beautiful, Maria.
On similar theme:

http://open.salon.com/blog/ilya_shambat/2010/11/06/not_in_life_will_i_ever_forget_you
Never mind the previous comment. Sorry for your loss.