I want to wish everyone a happy new year.
This time of year, I get reflective, as many of us do. For my special education certification, I see the light at the end of the tunnel. I should be student teaching spring 2015. And I look forward to going to work each day. On the writing front, I'm about to complete my second rough draft this year. While I still don't have an agent, I feel closer with each draft. On the family front, my husband and I will be together 25 years and married for 20 this coming year. At our newish home, both children are finally feeling more part of the community. And they're growing too quickly. My son is now in high school and my daughter is in middle school. I'm going to appreciate the last few years of my family of 4. With that thought, I wrote this poem:
Every day he plays those repetitive notes
to that tune I don’t know the name of.
Some days they croon from the clarinet—
Other days they sing from the saxophones.
When he first attempted it the piece, it
hiccuped and coughed and squeaked.
But each day he practiced, the music
ascended, sparkled, and sashayed to the rhythm.
The concert has long passed, so its droning
presence has become a path to newer pieces.
A warming breath, an inhale, exhale—
An intention for his practice makes perfect.
Some days the music is background thrum,
but today the notes soar to renaissance.
This tune is a measure of my son’s progress—
Of composition coming to life with concerted effort.
This everyday, why again, sometimes
ignored tune has measured time in notes,
seconds, minutes, days, years, and so on it goes.
It’s a measure of the man he will become.
And when he does,
I’ll miss the repetitive rhythm
of the way it was.
- Theresa Milstein
Even though winter has just begun, many areas have already been slammed with a few snowfalls. Earlier this year, I wrote a poem about a storm from a Magpie Picture Prompt.
Since then, I've revised and submitted it. It now appears in the Winter 2013 edition Halcyon Magazine. You may either read it for free or purchase a hard copy.
Love, Theresa xo