In the branches of the laurel tree
I saw two naked doves
One was the other
and both were none
Federico Garcia Lorca
This poem is for my sister
who never was born
except as the other half of me
the sole companion of my head
where I see myself as myself
and as some lonelier other girl
whose hands are empty but hold
my own against the bleak return
of sleepless nights and hollow days
everyone leaves me but not her
the voice in my heart that beats on
the awareness in a purposeless world
who bids me pay attention to details
to find courage in natural beauty
and know that one love is enough
my undefeated sisterhood of self
April One: One Love
On reading Of the Dark Doves by Federico Garcia Lorca
This is incredibly poignant, Kerry!💜
ReplyDeleteThis is a very beautiful tribute to your “sole companion” I feel a melancholy for those known but unseen,
ReplyDeleteWow...."my undefeated sisterhood of self". What a wonderful line! A poignant poem, Kerry.
ReplyDeleteNot always easy to love oneself but one might as well make peace.
DeleteAh wonderful. A very thoughtful and interesting poem. I have not thought of my inner witness this way, but it is a wonderful way to think of her. Thanks, Kerry. k.
ReplyDeleteI can't quite separate myself from my homunculus.. At least my commentators have been kind enough not to suggest I seek professional help!
DeleteThanks, Karin.
What a gift she has given you!
ReplyDeleteThe boon and burden of being a Gemini.. we are never quite alone, not even within ourselves.
DeleteLove the way the dark and light dance together to be neither and everything. Whole is never as clear or complete as we might want it. It's just itself (often uncanny).
ReplyDeleteSuch a special comment. Thanks, Magaly.
DeleteOh! This has made me pause and contemplate, Gemini Sister. My own sister-companion, my biological sister, hmmmm.
ReplyDeleteNo coincidence, sister poet. Not a poem I would have written if not for you.
DeleteWowzers, Kerry. You bring an extra layer to internal monologuing here, and I love how it plays out. Especially how the poem grows and coils into those two last lines, almost like backing me into a sense of calm within a huge storm. I really like the concept you are exploring here, and in particular how the first stanza sets up the narrator and inner twin as bystanders in a very world, but in the second, how they find a commonality that helps them to sing, color, what have you. Well done and viva la!
ReplyDeleteThanks for coming by, Izy. I always value your comments. Great input!
DeleteOh, I love this mystery and somehow it fits for what i want to say to my sister.
ReplyDeleteSuch an amazing, strong poem....
ReplyDelete'everyone leaves me but not her
the voice in my heart that beats on
the awareness in a purposeless world
who bids me pay attention to details
to find courage in natural beauty
and know that one love is enough
my undefeated sisterhood of self'
This seems like the perfect prayer or mantra!
This is sesational. I particularly luv that end line
ReplyDeleteThe oneness in your poem is provocative
Happy Easter Kerry.
Thanks for dropping by to read mine
Much😇love
Omg, talk about synchronicity. I wrote you a poem, and it basically says the very same thing! Wow, how remarkable.
ReplyDeleteAs a child, and through much of my adult life, I was convinced i should have had a sister. I used to ask my mother about it periodically. She did tell me she lost a baby girl in between my brother and me. I don't feel it so strongly anymore, but I remember how strong the feeling was.
PS--that Lorca poem might be my new favorite.
ReplyDeleteMine too.. After reading it, I felt like nothing I could read or write would equal it. Thank you so much for the poem. I feel so grateful to all my sisters in poetry, and most fortunate for your kindness, dear friend.
DeleteI felt the same way after reading it! Like, why am I scribbling stuff that's a world away from this brilliance? But then thought, "I'll try...."
DeleteI am bawling my eyes out.
ReplyDeleteAww.. I was a little tearful myself.
Delete:'(
I feel for the one never born and those who were expecting her. My dad was a twin but his sister died, age one day. They each weighed two pounds at birth.
ReplyDelete..
it's said that many conceptions begin as twins, but one is absorbed by the other during the pregnancy. you evoke strong emotions here ~
ReplyDeleteGadzooks.. I do hope that I don't have one of those malignant half babies feeding off my organs, Michael.. That might just be the last straw!
DeleteIt seems to me that everyone has another half, a soul sibling, just not always a living one. Sadly, neither of my sisters is 'the sole companion of my head' or my heart. They are both rather cold and self-contained. Which is why your poem touches me, Kerry. I too
ReplyDelete...'see myself as myself
and as some lonelier other girl
whose hands are empty...'
Keep paying attention to details, Kerry.
I believe 'sisterhood' comes with a whole range of issues - this I see in my own daughters, but was never to experience myself.
DeleteI'm just savouring this - all of it. It's so layered, so complex, speaks to the split within ourselves, the searching for one within two, or more - we wear so many levels, play out so many roles, regard ourselves in so many fashions, and then, of course, as so many have already mentioned, the complexity of "feeling like there should/could be another" - missing. Oddly enough, this brings to mind the idea of feeling some crucial part of you is missing, i.e. being born premature - missing months - which I do/have/am - so technically I never felt the loss of an actual sibling, but like there was/is some integral part of me "undeveloped, left behind" - totally stunning Kerry - this is just a great piece, I keep coming back to it. And thanks for the link - what a brilliant poem by Lorca - great inspiration!
ReplyDelete🍃 Pat
I love this idea and you wrote a simply beautiful poem. I had an older sister too who did not make it here and I have always thought the idea of the other as a guide to self is a powerful motif. Moved me to tears.
ReplyDeleteI am glad I wrote a poem for all sisters, having none.
Delete