and now she’s awake

I swam through the darkness, always upward, my eyes open,
seeing ahead through the streaming dark water.
On the other side, the wavering image of my father, smiling,
holding my eyes as I swam to him.
We both knew the joy of my kicks and wriggles,
my speed in the water,
my delight at finding myself here,
and once more, a girl.
We shared that delight in my strength, that rejoicing,
and felt as one the split second I swam through my reflection,
held as a twist of the wind on the water,
when I reached through the surface to touch him.
For a split second my baby blues and my broad smile overlay his,
and each saw through the others eyes.
I touched his face; his rough beard and my chubby fingers met
and the love never wavered while
the wind sang the song it sings: of having and holding,
finding and releasing, letting go and losing,
finding and touching and singing again.

This entry was posted in ada corinna, home for a few days, sleeping babies, with rest the poetry returns. Bookmark the permalink.

13 Responses to and now she’s awake

  1. amuirin says:

    sometimes I’m half tempted to keep *you* whatever *you* are here, try to pin you to the page

    so you’ll give more of this.

    I guess I’ve learned very little about butterflies.


  2. rick mobbs says:

    amuirin, I’m always afraid the dry times will just go on and on. So it is always amazing how with a little rest and time the juices start to flow again and the words and images start trying to work their way out. Thanks for noticing and asking for more.

    You too, jo.


  3. marlowe44 says:

    Ah, the old Rickster wordsmithing again, ain’t life sweet? One of these days we will be treated to a new painting as you find the time, and the urge comes upon you.

    This is a touching, strong, enigmatic piece of poetry. You have packed so much into it, paean to fathers, yours, yourself, ours–you knock my knickers off with lines like/holding my eyes as I swam to him/ and /held as a twist of the wind on the water/; with those multilayered concepts of mirror imagery, life, dreams, memories, really powerfully put. As we men age, and we shave in the mirror, it is interesting to see our fathers in our faces, and sometimes grandfathers. Thanks for kicking up the old Muse, and laying down some heart and hope and memory.



  4. annieepoetry says:

    This is awesome Rick. The sound and meaning are great. It surprises me every time you write and share a poem. I think you are a better poet than most who call themselves poets. Such glorious sound and meaning in perfection….. I want to rant and rave about how delicate and well timed….blah blah. Good Job.
    For everyone who calls themselves a poet who reads Rick’s blog -take heed and see what simple beauty is possible.


  5. janetleigh says:

    Beautifully written, Rick. Yes, it’s me, back from my hellish hiatus, ready to think, read and take-in again all things beautiful, pure, and awe-inspiring. Like your world. Boy, has Ada grown! She’s beautiful – and she’s gonna be a concert pianist, sayeth Madame Oracle! {{{hugs}}


  6. enigma says:

    Ah, rest and time, those magic ingrediants.
    She is beautiful, lots of love and everything else from me.


  7. damyantig says:

    Lovely words, Rick.


  8. Christine says:

    What a treasure!


  9. Marinkina says:

    Пора переименовать блог, присвоив название связанное с доменами 🙂 может хватит про них?


  10. johemmant says:

    hello—–ooooo, there’s an echo


  11. marlowe44 says:

    Hey Rickiticki: It’s been like ten weeks since we read some new stuff from youse. You certainly were not kidding when you announced that you had some life to catch up on. Hope that is going well for you. Thanks for dropping in on my blog, and reading my poem in the interim. Miss you, pal.



  12. Hi Rick: Checking the links on my site with your turn to get the visit. Haven’t seen much from you lately. Are you okay? This poem is fantastic. Thanks for the baby journey, one would have to be reborn to really appreciate it but I think you have caused me to think back to my own birth. I’ll enjoy this the next time around. Regards, Don


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