Part 12: THE WILD ROSE

Filed in Gather Writing Essential by on February 29, 2012 0 Comments

THE BRAT – THE EARLY YEARS

 

Part 12: THE WILD ROSE

 

Brat slipped out in the darkness to the fountain at the wall.

Both Irish Wolf Hounds were with her this time. Free.

    Upon the ridge an owl dropped from a high tree.

Brat had slipped out, weeping, to the fountain at the wall.

 

   “On this your birthday, Mother, owls are calling,

   “ma Mere…give me your shelter…

   “ma Mere…the scent of your hair is in this night air.

   “On this your birthday, Mother, from Heaven I feel you calling.

 

   “Ma Mere…give me your scented shelter…

   “Ma Mere (1)…ta pazo lei goyan (2)”

   [My Mother] … [blood runs down your breast]

   “Ma Mere…tonight I need your bleeding shelter.

 

   “Ma Mere…ta pazo lei goyan”

   “Nan-ei, nan-ei, coghuwan pon kuri?

   [Mother, Mother, where is the orphan's road?]

   Ma Mere…to pazo lei goyan”

 

Both hounds were with Brat this time. Roaming free.

Across the wall now, slippers whispering up the ridge like prayer,

   That soft white moon-lit gown blotted this daughter’s tears.

Both hounds flanked Brat protectively this time. Roaming free.

 

   “Nan-ei, Nan-ei, coghuwan pon kuri?

   “Nan-ei nano zhan-ei, Phurito an no-a”

   [Mother's love, is it not the Purit Pass?]

   “Nan-ei, Nan-ei, coghuwan pon kuri?

 

   “Nan-ei nano zhan-ei, Phurito an no-a”

   “Ma Mere, I long to cross, in sadness. To you. To you.

   “Nan-ei, Nan-ei, those calling me the ‘Brat’, are helping you.

   “Nan-ei, nano zhan-ei, Phurito an no-a”

 

   “Ma Mere, to you I long to cross tonight. To you.

   “Nan-ei, Nan-ei…I am of your womb. ‘Wild Rose’ to always be.

   “On this your birthday I am “hoi cristoi Theou”! Always to be!

   “Ma Mere, I am missing you! [The anointed of God!]

 

Brat had slipped earlier into the darkness and crossed the wall.

Both hounds now nudged her to return. To leave the trees.

   The owl was returning, spiralling upward back into its tree.

Brat was walking, singing like her mother, back down to the wall.

 

Pastor Bill Dickgraber

Catena Rondo for Mindful Poetry

(2/29/2012) My mother Reta’s birthday.

“I miss you Mom”

 

Notation (1) French (2) The other foreign words were in the Khowar language

of Pakistan and from the poem: “A Fawn and its Mother” (‘Some Khowar songs’

 collected by Wazir Ali Shah, translated by Georg Morgenstierne, in Acta

orientalia vol. 24 (1959) pp. 29-58) (3) “hoi christoi Theou” (the anointed of God) from Psalm 105: 15 (the whole psalm as context).

 

  

About the Author ()

My "Abba" Father conquored my heart in a log church in Montana over 40 years ago. Ordained in 1968, God has always used me on the front-line in difficult ministry. My favorite music is the wind soughing through the jackpines...preferably Montana.

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