Thursday, October 1, 2015

Poem for Miriam

My child, I have little for your inheritance--
Only the ground strewn with emerald grass
A sky carved of lapis,
And when you are lucky, a shower of diamond raindrops.

My child, I have little for your inheritance--
The knowledge man has learned since past remembering
Libraries full of poems
And the dreams that the sleeping world is dreaming.

My child, I have little for your inheritance--
Diamond tears shed upon the rail of your crib
My heart's depths
And one person who loved you before your deserving.


Belfry Bat said...

Is it still summery, over there? It's definitely early Fall weather up here, and something in this poem resonates with the autumnal chrysalism I'm enjoying just now.

Sheila said...

It's cold and wet at the moment -- we are expecting a hurricane this weekend. But I wrote this in summer.

Some of my favorite poems are about fall, but I've never written a good fall poem. I just get carried away with "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness," and "Thou dirge of the dying year" and "Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year" and never get around to writing one of my own.

Enbrethiliel said...


Oh, this is lovely!

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