Strains of Tijuana Brass flood the yard
while father on bended knee tends
his garden, tiers of stone edged rows
encircling a trio of birch trees.
Father points out birches on Sunday
drives, as if the bark is sacred, leaves
whispering a secret I cannot hear –
stirs in me an indefinable longing.
My husband planted birch trees
there amongst the flower beds –
how the leaves shimmer in sunlight,
how my heart quickens, bittersweet.
Imagine Father seated there, mellow
as he was in old age, angst expended,
tyranny of parenting set aside – understand
love unexpressed dwells in birch trees.
(Watercolour image by yours truly)
Is that your voice this time, I thought you had an slight accent?
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That would be a Canadian accent! Although, my British roots creep in once in a while I am told.
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You sound about 20 years old, is that how you feel?
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Ha ha ha….not quite.
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Lovely poem and good to hear your voice. The accompanying watercolour is very good. Stay well. Janet 🙂
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Thanks Janet!
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A sweet memory that will always “shimmer in the sunlight”!
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Yes. Thank you!
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Welcome.
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How lovely to hear both your voice, feel your words and see your painting!! Wonderful. A fully immersed experience by such a great artist 😊❤
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Thank you for that wonderful encouragement!
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I really like the painting – the colors and shading. Really nice. The poem – read aloud! – also so enjoyable. “Angst expended…” – ah yes.
I have a soft spot for birch trees as well. I miss the ones we left behind when we moved.
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Thanks Andrea. Maybe it’s time to paint birch trees again.
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You’re welcome! Good idea 🙂
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Delightful reflection … and image! … especially drawn to “angst expended” … something not even age can bring reliably. Guess birch trees are an essential ingredient. I’ll pay closer attention next time I’m near them (listening for de-angsting vibes). I googled birch trees in Texas … a “river birch” grows in East TX … maybe they were at the campground near the Arkansas border … maybe what felt so good there.
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Thanks Jazz. My son tells me the bark of the birch trees is sacred as it makes great fire starter. I think at one time it was used for scrolls. Can’t remember if I saw any in Texas or not. Hmmm.
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Beautifully written. Thank you so much for the recording, beautiful voice, VJ.
I love the painting.
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Thanks Amy.
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Another lovely reading of a lovely poem!
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Than you Benjamin!
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You’re welcome!
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I love, love, love this poem! My dad also pointed out the birch trees on family drives, as if the bark is sacred. I also liked hearing your voice again; it sounds stronger than it did last time.
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Thanks Liz. My voice betrays my health, for sure. So glad you could relate and enjoyed this.
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You’re welcome, VJ.
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Amazing watercolor!😍 Love the poem–beautiful reading!
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Thanks so much!
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I loved this post, the art, the poem, the reading, so good! My grandma loved birch trees, and I always think of her when I see one. 🙂
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that last line is pure love!
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Thank you for visiting and commenting. Nice to meet you.
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