Rachel, all your selections were incredibly touching for this (bittersweetly last) Maker Monday. Nye's and Kinnell's both sound like they're speaking directly to me at this point in my life, as I explore this newly unlocked artistic side of myself that I wouldn't have found without you. Thank you.
.
I say "thank you" "a lot, but I mean it, earnestly, yearningly."
.
Oliver's poem definitely helped coax out what's below, which is incredibly sad and happy at the same time. I shared it with some cousins (I don't have any siblings) that I shared this grandfather with, and they both said it brought him back more vividly in their memories than otherwise. For me, writing it down makes it less sad and more happy, like it's a small flame of his immortality. Thank you for helping me, and all the rest of the amazing Maker Monday participants, summon the words.
.
.
A Profound Kindness
.
La culcare, my Romanian grandfather would
say, to bed, in a tone between speaking and
singing, each vowel a hair longer than the last.
I'd feel his words, pulling me away from the
TV screen like a gentle, stern, permeable net.
.
In moments of particular difficulty, when I
feel like a slab of meat, pulled in impossibly
many directions, I remember his challenged,
resolved sigh. A quarter of me was this bold
and this loving; I know I can be the same.
.
If I could see him one more time, I'm not sure
what I would say or do, what I could say or do.
I could embrace him, and hear his loving and
excited inhalation, an inverse sigh, once more.
I am relieved its sound persists in my memory.
.
Even his accent depicted a man of profound
kindness, courage, and attention to detail.
Should I be so fortunate as to witness the
glory of grandchildren of my own, I imagine my
smile like his, warm and expressed with whole body.
.
I carry him with me, in memory, in genes, in
love. As the decades rush past, I understand
more of his sterner attributes and why they
are necessary and compassionate. This is a
certainty I am unlikely to part with.
.
I continue to imagine his eyes, learned and
reassuring, held securely beneath coarse
cliffs of salt and pepper eyebrows. Those
eyes saw me, and I continue to save a portion
of my experience for them, though they are no longer wet.
Mike, thank you so much for this beautiful poem. I can only imagine your grandfather being so proud of the man you are. What a loving, wonderful tribute. Your touch me so deeply. Thank you for the care you carry within you. It is a gift for this world.
Jul 13, 2023·edited Jul 13, 2023Liked by Rachel Kann
Rachel, I had turned off notifications for the Substack app for reasons you know well. I’m out here in my backyard listening to music with my son when “Within You Without You” came on. It reminded me to check your Substack. Sure enough, you had left a comment. Thanks again, Universe.
Thank you so much for your kind words once again. I feel very seen in the best way.
I hope you’ve been having a great time with Spanish immersion!
Hey Mike, I have a question...I am considering making the post public, so that new subscribers can have the opportunity to try this Prompt Journey, if they'd like to. I am reaching out to you, because this would mean that your poem would also become public. And of course, I think it is a lovely poem and it would be a gift for all. But your boundaries are my first priority. I would never violate your privacy by doing so without your consent. Let me know how you feel about this possibility.
Rachel, all your selections were incredibly touching for this (bittersweetly last) Maker Monday. Nye's and Kinnell's both sound like they're speaking directly to me at this point in my life, as I explore this newly unlocked artistic side of myself that I wouldn't have found without you. Thank you.
.
I say "thank you" "a lot, but I mean it, earnestly, yearningly."
.
Oliver's poem definitely helped coax out what's below, which is incredibly sad and happy at the same time. I shared it with some cousins (I don't have any siblings) that I shared this grandfather with, and they both said it brought him back more vividly in their memories than otherwise. For me, writing it down makes it less sad and more happy, like it's a small flame of his immortality. Thank you for helping me, and all the rest of the amazing Maker Monday participants, summon the words.
.
.
A Profound Kindness
.
La culcare, my Romanian grandfather would
say, to bed, in a tone between speaking and
singing, each vowel a hair longer than the last.
I'd feel his words, pulling me away from the
TV screen like a gentle, stern, permeable net.
.
In moments of particular difficulty, when I
feel like a slab of meat, pulled in impossibly
many directions, I remember his challenged,
resolved sigh. A quarter of me was this bold
and this loving; I know I can be the same.
.
If I could see him one more time, I'm not sure
what I would say or do, what I could say or do.
I could embrace him, and hear his loving and
excited inhalation, an inverse sigh, once more.
I am relieved its sound persists in my memory.
.
Even his accent depicted a man of profound
kindness, courage, and attention to detail.
Should I be so fortunate as to witness the
glory of grandchildren of my own, I imagine my
smile like his, warm and expressed with whole body.
.
I carry him with me, in memory, in genes, in
love. As the decades rush past, I understand
more of his sterner attributes and why they
are necessary and compassionate. This is a
certainty I am unlikely to part with.
.
I continue to imagine his eyes, learned and
reassuring, held securely beneath coarse
cliffs of salt and pepper eyebrows. Those
eyes saw me, and I continue to save a portion
of my experience for them, though they are no longer wet.
Mike, thank you so much for this beautiful poem. I can only imagine your grandfather being so proud of the man you are. What a loving, wonderful tribute. Your touch me so deeply. Thank you for the care you carry within you. It is a gift for this world.
Rachel, I had turned off notifications for the Substack app for reasons you know well. I’m out here in my backyard listening to music with my son when “Within You Without You” came on. It reminded me to check your Substack. Sure enough, you had left a comment. Thanks again, Universe.
Thank you so much for your kind words once again. I feel very seen in the best way.
I hope you’ve been having a great time with Spanish immersion!
Hey Mike, I have a question...I am considering making the post public, so that new subscribers can have the opportunity to try this Prompt Journey, if they'd like to. I am reaching out to you, because this would mean that your poem would also become public. And of course, I think it is a lovely poem and it would be a gift for all. But your boundaries are my first priority. I would never violate your privacy by doing so without your consent. Let me know how you feel about this possibility.
Rachel, yes of course! I don't mind making that poem public. Thank you so much for your kindness in checking with me first.
Por supuesto y muchísimas gracias.
Wooooooooooow that is a truly astounding story!!! Goosebumps!!! Wow wow wow!!! 🙌🏽😮
Thank you, universe!!!