Frost Lingers in the Shadows, Michael

Frost Lingers in the Shadows
by Michael

Winters day
Warm sun, cold earth
The frost lingers in the shadows

The picket fence casts zebra stripes on the pavement
My car wears an old man’s hair – shock of grey, left-side parting
The shadowy fingers of tussock grass reach out across the open moor
At the mountain’s north face, the Arctic Circle extends
Like an army encamped, preparing for retreat?
The sun rises but the frost lingers still

Frost lingers in my heart too
Broken, splintered by my grief
My act of protection, casts my heart in shadow
The Son has risen, but the frost lingers still




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about the piece.
Michael loves extended analogies. This poem was written during a winter's walk about six months after his daughter Abigail died. As he recalls "the extending frost was fighting a battle with the warm sun and the frost was winning on that day. There were lots of images on this walk which seemed to speak to me of grief and the grip of death. The frost seemed a fitting metaphor for my grief which despite the occasional ray of hope was very much dominating my life." Michael has combined this short poem with some pictures he took on a walk the following winter (January 2010).  You can view those pictures here. Michael enjoys hillwalking and mountaineering and remembers that "it was -12C when I set off from the car to climb this mountain. The snow was everywhere and formed some beautiful patterns all around. But this was a truly savage beauty! I remembered the poem I had written the year before and realised that some beauty was surely shining through my grief - but it remained a fairly fragile and precarious place. The photos were taken with a Canon EOS20D and the light was absolutely stunning. I never made the summit because I was too busy taking pictures."

about the contributor.
Michael wrote his first poem ever a few days after his daughter Abigail was stillborn in October 2008. Since then he has found creative writing as a good outlet for his grief and emotions. He has also for several years enjoyed photography. In his own words "death and grief are ugly beyond words but that does not mean we cannot find beauty within the pain and perhaps it is even enhanced because of the contrast. This is part of my journey of healing and a way I can honour my daughter." Michael has been blogging since July 2009 at  Living in the Rainbow.

Four Seasons, Michael

Four Seasons.
Michael.
Photography

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about the piece.
In Michael own words "Beauty is all around us if we only know where to look for it. For me the annual cycle of nature reminds me of the cycle of life and death too. Abigail died in October and before long we were into long nights and short days in more ways than one. The weather was cold and miserable too. And yet, in the year that followed there were many images that capture my imagination speaking of death and decay but also life within trying circumstances and new birth. So it seemed a fitting tribute to Abigail at the year end to capture a collage of the four seasons"

about the contributor.
The seasons are now returning for a second time since Michael's daughter Abigail died in 2008. By his own confession, he was never a particularly creative person but he has found it therapeutic to use poetry and photography to capture beauty from a sense of loss. In his own words "Abigail is every bit as important to me as my living 5 year old son. Whilst I have to be more imaginative in how I celebrate her life and show my love for her, I do not love her any less. Not a day passes when I do not miss her." Michael shares his ongoing story at www.livingintherainbow.com

Father to Daughter, Michael

Father to Daughter
by Michael

What can I say? Where shall I start?
You were so beautiful, you captured my heart
We only got to know you, through images on a screen
We felt the occasional movement, the rest was left unseen

If God had allowed it, I would have loved you so
I would have given anything, just to see you grow
To share with you in laughter; your joy, your years
To even share the sad times, and wipe away your tears

You would have been so beautiful; you had your mother’s eyes
And witty and funny, and carefree and wise
You’d have loved the mountains, as we shared walks and climbs
You had such potential; now I know only sad times

I will not devalue the time we shared, with any platitude
Just take these never-had memories, into my solitude
They said once for a princess, that the price for love was grief
So I will hold onto the loss I feel, and won’t let it be brief

I will not end with sadness; there’s hope in these words I’ve spoken
My joy is now the Father’s, and in Heaven nothing’s broken
Please know I dared to love you, and if Heaven’s rules allow
I’ll hold you close again one day, and forget the pain of now


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about the poem.
In Michael's words:

"For Abigail's funeral I wrote three poems. The first of these has already been shared on this site - So Nearly Beautiful and was very much written from a position of raw grief. A few days later I decided I needed to write something a bit more positive, focusing in less on Abigail's death and more on the beautiful person, daughter, sister, she had been and on the hope we had in heaven.

"This poem reflects on both the precious time we had with Abigail and on the potential that was lost. Abigail means 'Father's Joy' and this has a double meaning for me. She was supposed to be my joy as her Father but my hope in the last verse is that 'my Joy [Abigail] is now the Father's.' This was the first time I ever tried to make a poem rhyme and whilst the timing is a bit clumsy in places I am really pleased with the final result. It is my love letter to my daughter. It is on the wall in my home complete with her footprint, name and date of birth."

about the poet.
Michael started writing poetry after the death of his second child Abigail who was stillborn in October 2008. He is married with one living son who is now five. In his own words "I aim to survive the storm, but also hope to spot the odd ray of sunshine on the way." He blogs at Living in the Rainbow on subjects as diverse as stillbirth, infertility, grief, faith and a possible adoption journey.

So nearly beautiful, Michael

So nearly beautiful
by Michael

So nearly beautiful
Seeing the images on the scan
The clock stops, the doctor speaks
And all the beauty is gone


So nearly beautiful
Hugs with midwives and tears
The pain of labour
The first glimpse of our child
Holding our daughter in our arms
Saying the special words, saying goodnight


So nearly beautiful
The drive home from hospital
The sleepless nights, the restless wander
The mother’s milk all ready to feed her
The cards and the flowers
The family and friends visiting


So nearly Beautiful
Planning her special day in church
Walking down the aisle, daughter in hand
Giving her away


So many reminders of what might have been
All was lost with her heartbeat
All so nearly Beautiful
So near
So far

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about the poem.
In Michael's words:

 "A few days after my daughter Abigail was stillborn in October 2008, I was overcome by the similarities between the happiest day of my life (the birth of my healthy son) and the saddest (Abigail's stillbirth).  So many things were the same or similar, but instead of bringing joy, they reminded us of what we had lost.  The first draft of this poem was written in about two minutes as all the images lined up on the page.  I then crafted it a bit more for Abigail's funeral where it was read to try to give people a window into our grief.  As Abigail's father, I walked her small white coffin down the aisle - yet one more reminder of what I would hopefully have done years in the future on her wedding day.

"A few structural things are worth pointing out.  First, time stops in the third line and after that the immediacy of the comparative images (a happy versus a sad birth) stretches out over the lifetime that was lost (e.g. to the difference between a funeral and a wedding day years in the future).  Second, there is a sense that Beautiful changes from an adjective describing events at the start of the poem, to a proper noun at the end - Beautiful is a name for my Daughter.  So nearly Beautiful..."

about the poet.
Michael says, "To be honest, I hardly see myself as a poet at all!  This was actually the first ever poem I ever wrote in my life and was very much born out of overwhelming emotions.  That said, poetry has been a very useful way for me to process what I am feeling and open my grief up to others."

After the birth of  their son, Michael and his wife struggled with infertility.  When they finally conceived, they were overjoyed.  At the 20 week scan, they were told there was a problem and there followed the most intense period of their lives.  For thirteen weeks Michael and his wife tracked the ups and downs of their daughter's fight for life.  In October 2008 on the day of a planned c-section, they were told their daughter had died.  She was stillborn two days later.  "We grieve her loss but we also treasure her memory," says Michael, "especially now that we have been told we cannot have more children."  Michael shares his journey at Living in the Rainbow.