deepundergroundpoetry.com
cradlesong
"The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.”
—William Ross Wallace (1865)
i
a gentle hand
a mighty wand
to lullaby
wings that shall fly
from cradle bed
nippled and fed:
here grows the child
too soon reviled.
ii
a mother's hand
a sovereign land
holds in its grasp
as she would clasp
an infant's head
whose a-to-zed
makes wise the tongue
as yet unsung.
iii
a careless hand
a fearsome brand
makes of the clay
locked in its fray;
a crooked touch
hews fast a crutch
on which shall limp
a future wimp.
iv
lest this green earth
should suffer dearth
cleaving a path
of grief and wrath:
release your clutch
if by so much
you may recant
that bitter slant!
v
your cradle seed:
is it a weed
that, once released,
becomes the beast?
is it of hope
for those who grope
in darkness? might
the blind see light?
© Copyright 2020 June 29
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
—William Ross Wallace (1865)
i
a gentle hand
a mighty wand
to lullaby
wings that shall fly
from cradle bed
nippled and fed:
here grows the child
too soon reviled.
ii
a mother's hand
a sovereign land
holds in its grasp
as she would clasp
an infant's head
whose a-to-zed
makes wise the tongue
as yet unsung.
iii
a careless hand
a fearsome brand
makes of the clay
locked in its fray;
a crooked touch
hews fast a crutch
on which shall limp
a future wimp.
iv
lest this green earth
should suffer dearth
cleaving a path
of grief and wrath:
release your clutch
if by so much
you may recant
that bitter slant!
v
your cradle seed:
is it a weed
that, once released,
becomes the beast?
is it of hope
for those who grope
in darkness? might
the blind see light?
© Copyright 2020 June 29
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
Published 5th Jul 2020
| Edited 16th May 2023
Author's Note
NB "a-to-zed" (stanza 2) is the spoken form of A-Z
View visual version (copy/paste):
http://mydo.cx/MjZiYWRm
View visual version (copy/paste):
http://mydo.cx/MjZiYWRm
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5th Jul 2020 2:29pm
here grows the child
too soon reviled.
That is such a dire truth that it hurts to read it, cabcool. I think of all the sweet children born into the untruth of worldly perception in regards to every person's true worth. Hopefully this cradle song will become obsolete when a new world is born.
too soon reviled.
That is such a dire truth that it hurts to read it, cabcool. I think of all the sweet children born into the untruth of worldly perception in regards to every person's true worth. Hopefully this cradle song will become obsolete when a new world is born.
A beautiful poem with a great ending?!Reminds me of a poem (cannot remember by who) about a father,who, on holding his newborn son chokes with conflicting emotions and he exclaims "...herein lays my murder and murderer!" (may not be the exact wording;read it ages ago).
Who can tell whom the lil.ones that we nurture with so much love and care and gentleness and...will turn out to be?! I haven't brought forth one yet, still, I worry about my progeny!!!
Great read!Greatly enjoyed!
Who can tell whom the lil.ones that we nurture with so much love and care and gentleness and...will turn out to be?! I haven't brought forth one yet, still, I worry about my progeny!!!
Great read!Greatly enjoyed!
6th Jul 2020 4:51am
I lost my son about nine years ago and still wonder who he would be and if I lived up to the challenge of fatherhood. Great ode to parenthood.
I struggled with the ‘a-to-zed‘ expression (actually went to google to figure it out), which interrupted the flow. Capitalizing A and Z might clarify it.
I struggled with the ‘a-to-zed‘ expression (actually went to google to figure it out), which interrupted the flow. Capitalizing A and Z might clarify it.
Hi, Kinkpoet
Despite being three years late, I feel compelled to respond to your touching sentiments on the splashboard of my poem.
I sense your pain as you reflect on the loss of your son, through whose memory you found accord you found resonance. Thank you, my friend.
Only now do I realise why I missed the three comments on cradlesong: I was about to, and did, lose my own dear mother at just about the same time; she passed away on July 14, at the age of 107 years 5 months 1 week 1 day. I guess I was too bruised to come to DU at that time.
Between your experience and mine, we span the continuum between parent and progeny, for the one poem sums up the loss of a son and a mother, two sides of God's Creation.
Yes, the A-to-Zed could have been clearer, but I wanted to preserve the poetic license of using all lowercase letters. Perhaps an author's note would clarify it. I've added that note.
Yours sincerely
cab
Despite being three years late, I feel compelled to respond to your touching sentiments on the splashboard of my poem.
I sense your pain as you reflect on the loss of your son, through whose memory you found accord you found resonance. Thank you, my friend.
Only now do I realise why I missed the three comments on cradlesong: I was about to, and did, lose my own dear mother at just about the same time; she passed away on July 14, at the age of 107 years 5 months 1 week 1 day. I guess I was too bruised to come to DU at that time.
Between your experience and mine, we span the continuum between parent and progeny, for the one poem sums up the loss of a son and a mother, two sides of God's Creation.
Yes, the A-to-Zed could have been clearer, but I wanted to preserve the poetic license of using all lowercase letters. Perhaps an author's note would clarify it. I've added that note.
Yours sincerely
cab
