visit
Qing Ming is a traditional Chinese festival to remember and honour a family's departed ones. It is a time to tend and clean the tombs and graves, and to offer food, fruits, wine and tea. Joss sticks and candles are lit before the graves, and paper offerings of money, gold and silver are burnt in the hope that the departed ones can have a comfortable afterlife.
This poem is inspired after one such visit.
photo by Carlson
image from morguefile.com
visit
the war is over
a long time ago.
you fought bravely but still
the rampant cells won,
there's little i could do.
but every year i am here,
i wanted to hold your hands,
touch your cheeks,
to stem the tide of tears
down your face.
but this is just
a slab of cold marble,
with your name
and some dates which
i remember well.
you would have love
fresh flowers.
lilies,
peonies,
baby breath.
but i bring cloth
and plastic ones instead.
tacky, you would have said.
but they last longer
in this sun and rain.
and just like old times,
i light a cigarette,
sharing a smoke with you,
as a gentle wind blows
among rain-soaked trees...
05/04/10
********
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ), 2010
This poem is inspired after one such visit.
photo by Carlson
image from morguefile.com
visit
the war is over
a long time ago.
you fought bravely but still
the rampant cells won,
there's little i could do.
but every year i am here,
i wanted to hold your hands,
touch your cheeks,
to stem the tide of tears
down your face.
but this is just
a slab of cold marble,
with your name
and some dates which
i remember well.
you would have love
fresh flowers.
lilies,
peonies,
baby breath.
but i bring cloth
and plastic ones instead.
tacky, you would have said.
but they last longer
in this sun and rain.
and just like old times,
i light a cigarette,
sharing a smoke with you,
as a gentle wind blows
among rain-soaked trees...
05/04/10
********
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ), 2010
Labels: lovesongs, Poetry, Remembrance
posted by dsnake1 at 11:59 PM
6 Comments:
There's hidden depth in this. Excellently done.
anthony,
thank you! :)
poignantly vivid imagery
magiceye,
thanks!
The fifth stanza made me grin then sniff then downright feel the connection of the grief, the reality of it, how memories by nature (like the plastic flowers) are not-here, but... they will have to do. They last as long as the one who holds them, holds them.
S.L.
thanks for your comments.:)
>> "They last as long as the one who holds them, holds them" : this is a great line, i like it.
sometimes, pragmatism, more than anything, rules the day.
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