Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Reunions

 Mother is overcome with emotion when reunited
with her daughter after three years apart
Tuesday, Aug 29th 2017  DailyMail on Facebook

"I see myself as having three families: my birth family, the family that raised me, and my Cree family, who I was reunited with in my late teens, 
so I consider myself to be lucky. "

~Buffy Sainte-Marie

God's dream is that you and I and all of us will realize that we are family, that we are made for togetherness, for goodness, and for compassion.

~Desmond Tutu

You and I will meet again, 

When we're least expecting it, 

One day in some far off place, 

I will recognize your face, 

I won't say goodbye my friend, 

For you and I will meet again. 

~Tom Petty

👫

Midweek Motif ~ Reunions

Family reunions, class reunions, long-lost-friend reunions, soldier-on-leave reunions, forgiveness-induced reunions, after-the-disaster reunions: 

• What is the same and what has changed since the last time together?  
• What's the occasion and what is the feast? 
• Is it sweet?

Your Challenge:  In a new poem, paint a word picture of a reunion you've had (or know of) ~ or one you can imagine occurring.

Family Reunion

BY MAXINE W. KUMIN

The week in August you come home, 

adult, professional, aloof, 

we roast and carve the fatted calf 

—in our case home-grown pig, the chine 

garlicked and crisped, the applesauce 

hand-pressed. Hand-pressed the greengage wine. 

Nothing is cost-effective here. 

The peas, the beets, the lettuces 

hand sown, are raised to stand apart. 

The electric fence ticks like the slow heart 

of something we fed and bedded for a year, 

then killed with kindness’s one bullet 

and paid Jake Mott to do the butchering. 

. . . . 

(Read the rest of this AMAZING poem HERE.)

👫

Reunited

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Let us begin, dear love, where we left off; 

Tie up the broken threads of that old dream; 

And go on happy as before; and seem

Lovers again, though all the world may scoff.

Let us forget the graves, which lie between

Our parting and our meeting, and the tears

That rusted out the goldwork of the years; 

The frosts that fell upon our gardens green.

Let us forget the cold malicious Fate

Who made our loving hearts her idle toys, 

And once more revel in the old sweet joys

Of happy love. Nay, it is not too late! 

Forget the deep-ploughed furrows in my brow; 

Forget the silver gleaming in my hair; 

Look only in my eyes! Oh! darling, there

The old love shone no warmer then than now.

Down in the tender depths of thy dear eyes, 

I find the lost sweet memory of my youth, 

Bright with the holy radiance of thy truth, 

And hallowed with the blue of summer skies.

Tie up the broken threads, and let us go, 

Like reunited lovers, hand in hand, 

Back, and yet onward, to the sunny land

Of our To Be, which was our Long Ago. 

👫

I Don't Know If History Repeats Itself

by Yehuda Amichai

 I don't Know if history repeats itself
But I do know that you don't.

I remember that city was divided 
Not only between Jews and Arabs,
But Between me and you,
When we were there together.

We made ourselves a womb of dangers
We built ourselves a house of deadening wars
Like men of far north 
Who build themselves a safe warm house of deadening ice.

The city has been reunited
But we haven't been there together.

By now I know
That History doesn't repeat itself, 
As I always knew that you wouldn't.

👫

Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and 





visit others in the spirit of the community—



Next week Susan's Midweek Motif will be "Peace."