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I'm a Minnesota Girl, living in the south. I tell my friends I try not to talk and think like a Yankee, but sometimes I slip up!

Friday, March 27, 2009

For Debby

The Gift of Defining the Small Moment

If you see past the moments that
Poets describe with rapture.
If you miss the nuance…...

Then perhaps you are speeding instead
Of traveling through life.
For what would be the point of

Not recognizing the irony,
Ignoring the beauty,
Being unable
To define the rare times
When the small moment is larger than life?

When the details will be forever
Captured by the camera
Of your mind’s eye.
Memories locked, complete
With smell and texture.

A treasure to be drawn out of time
And forever made yours in its capture
And its ethereal existence in your mind.

Can you see how exquisite it is
To be able to revisit that one moment in time
When the world stopped turning, when,
After its passage, nothing was quite the same?

You needn’t write of the moment
As poets do,
You needn’t tell others of its existence.
They have their small treasures – moments of their own.

The gift of recognition is yours alone
Moments in your life, kept deliciously
Within your reach – to be drawn out and on
When you need the magic.

~quidrock 2003


Hal Johnson said...

Wow, Quid. I think your poem beautifully encapsulates Debby's journey as I experienced it through her writing.

I often feel at a loss to comment on poetry, because I think of myself as a bit of a caveman regarding it. But sheesh, this grabbed me.

quid said...

I have had this old Pearlsoup poem ruminating around in my head again since you "introduced" me to Debby, in that way you have of helping us with the memorable things in life, Hal.


Pam said...

Simply amazing, Quid! Brings tears to MY eye! I can only imagine Debby's reaction!!!

Your poetry never fails to capture me with its beauty!

Debby said...

Oh, Quid. Thank you so much. I was really touched. I've been discovering, more and more that it is the small moments strung together like pearls on a necklace that make a life. It is a shock to come up against your own mortality. You cannot do that without questioning the value of your own life. (Did I make a difference? Or as Hal so beautifully phrased it, did I leave more than I took?) My life seemed so small and narrow, and I thought about all the things that I had imagined that I would do in my life, and suddenly I just felt like my life had been for nothing. But ever so slowly, I started remembering these small moments, and they were so wonderful, and before I knew it, voila! a life! A rich life, actually. I am blessed by my small moments. I'm glad that you were too. I will save that poem forever. Thank you, Quid.

quid said...

Debby... my sense is that all of "here" will leave more than we took.

I'm just sayin'... I'm so glad I could find it again for you.


Kelly said...

This is absolutely beautiful, Quid!!