By and By

The sole of his boot, sunk into the earth's land
tow sack on his shoulder, palming seeds in his hand
he dropped them, he did, into the holes he had heeled
covering them tightly, hoping the crows wouldn't steal

And he stopped, placing one knee on the ground
pushing up his straw hat, he wiped sweat from his brow
How lucky, he thought, with sentimental pride
they were so blessed with this land,
blessed to live in this time

Then scooped it up, this soil belonging to him,
letting it fall through his fingers, feeling its richness with in
He teared, they did, well up in his eyes,
as he looked vastly around, he couldn't help but cry
For he would miss this, a farmer always was he,
going off to war, was not the way it should be
He'd promised his south, his duty to fight,
the Army of the Tennessee, soon would be his new wife
Yet what of his bride here, so young and kind,
yes, he must protect her, their home their life

So here he knelt, taking everything in,
etching all in his mind, for courage to win
And after he'd sworn, somehow, to get back home,
dropping the other knee, he sought the guidance of the Lord

by and by, he rose, heeling a hole again,
tow sack on his shoulder, palming seeds in his hand
He dropped them, he did, down two by two,
Johnny Rebel still had, so much he needed to do

Jun 28, 2009, © Dawn Michelle, All rights reserved. Authors Note: Civil War South, Farmers becoming soldiers....

Sweet Autumn

Sweet autumn of my memory
oh that sweet time bye and bye
bare cotton fields and bales of hay
fallen leaves the color of rye

brisk breeze that brushed the strands of my hair
when pecans I did pick
from a tree in granny's old back yard
perched there beside the creek

I can feel it now if I close my eyes
southern dew that comes with twilight
while on the porch gathered round
a pumpkin daddy carved with his knife

yes orange, brown, yellow, red
October colors that fill my mind
when I rode with my love in a hayride wagon
back in 1859

sweet autumn it comes back to me
time and time again
to take me on my trip back home
to remember life back when.....

Oct 15, 2009,© Dawn Michelle, All rights reserved.

For Yesterday

I long for yesterday
when the morning brought you to me
and the music in my ears was the whisper of your heart
Do you remember those days
when love was free
and abundant with its kiss
when no one held your favor but I
and a glow swept across my face
one could see it, there, in my eyes
and when they looked, it was known, that I had been loved
Oh the taste! if I wet my lips, even now,
the tip of my tongue can bring the flavor of that day
as it brushes across
and I m taken back
to those days of old
when you held my hand
and your heart I owned
do come back to me, yesterday
clear the fog from my eyes
please take this pain away
I beg you
bring me back to life

Dawn Michelle Feb 23 2011

Ondas de Vida

Her basket full of fish, she carries them
sometimes atop her head
walking from the shore
sea salt upon her lips
singing to herself hushed tones, of days gone by

Below the rooftops
she hears it, the flow
the rush of wind, carrying the sound of clogs
echoing from the cobblestone street
and she sees it,

A janela de sua casa
the window of her home
that place belonging to her soul, where she sits
watching the life of her time
listening to guitars into the night
praying for that caravel
its safe return,

Knowing, for all time
she will ever belong
in these alley's with no name
the pathways to her being
that reside upon horizons yet to be loved
without pain, with you
Lisboa Antigua
Through your hand she does exist,
Aurora
always, upon the shore Aurora
always, at the window
Aurora
always, pulled
by the waves, of saudade

© Dawn Michelle, All rights reserved

Author notes

varinas: for lack of better English words, a varina is a lady fish vendor, a way of life in Lisbon Portugal

Saudade is a Portuguese word that appears here and there in English writings. Usually the writer will give brief explanation, something along the lines of "The Portuguese word for the presence of absence'" It is often be touted as 'untranslatable'. The result is that saudade is seen as a type of bittersweet super-nostalgia, bigger and better than anything that the English speaking world can truly understand. How poetic!

And here's the translation. No translation is 100 percent indisputable, but in this case, it's a pretty straightforward and bland task.

Saudade feminine noun. A memory sad, but sweet, of persons or things that are distant or lost, accompanied by the desire to see or have them again; To feel grief over the absence of a person whom you love; nostalgia; (Bot.) The common name of various plants of the family Dipsacaceae (the teasels), and their flowers; (in the plural; saudades) Affectionate remembrances of those who have died; (in the plural; saudades) may be used as a greeting.

Well, that sucked the romance right out, didn't it? But as you might expect, the themes of missing those you love and homesickness are a major component of poetry and songs, including the famous Portuguese fado. When English speakers have tried to translate these songs they came upon the problem that the writer/singer is filling the piece with strong emotion and, hopefully, beauty. In English the phrases "I have longing", "I am with longing" sound awkward and wrong, with a distinct lack of beauty. If you simply replaced saudade with the word 'nostalgia' you would usually have a good translation, but it would sound clumsy. Faced with the difficulty of translating a word that just doesn't fit grammatically into English, the English-speaking world decided to give up. Just use the Portuguese word that fills the grammatical position so well, and pretend that we couldn't translate it if we tried.

Longing, nostalgia, and missing someone who is not there are all well developed ideas in English, and there's no need to pretend that saudade is anything that we don't speak about in our everyday lives. We tend to emphasize the feeling as a verb (I long for you, I miss you), and avoid using it as a noun (I have longing, I feel nostalgia for you). But the idea is the same.

Having said all that, there is the idea of Saudosismo, an artistic and philosophical idea that appears in the early 1900s. This is a highly poignant nostalgia for the way things used to be. The longing for the old folkways, the idealization of the life that once was, the desire to escape the modern world and live as the noble Portuguese one did.

This movement has added an extra dimension to the word saudade. Sometimes it is used in the context of glorifying lost ways of life, reaffirming the Portuguese cultural identity, and bringing the nostalgia for Portuguese history to an almost religious plane. But this is not really a sense that English speakers really have any reason to use. The English mythology of saudade doesn't really have any Portuguese counterpart.

Here to There

I fear the unknown
that's all that it is
for I have belief
in the things of HIM

Yet the process
of how one gets
from here to there
is the cause for anxiety
and thus I fear

If mine eyes could be opened
and I could see
would anguish disappear
would I finally be free

O Father, forgive me
for my awkward thoughts
my search is for understanding
of all that Thou has taught

I mean no disrespect
and desire not to sin
I do not question or doubt
my heart is true for HIM

I only wish to shake
the darkness that threatens my mind
and with greater understanding
this mountain I feel I could climb

To be not afraid
when the phone rings late at night
and quiver not when sirens
near the house do sound array

But to have calmness of heart
assured with all I know
that when death has to strike
I will not sink so low

and when trials come
being but to the test
or if tragedy blossoms
when I am without rest

I just want to be confidant
strong full of grace
the one Heavenly Father can count on
to succeed in this place

No more fear
is the quest that be
oh please dear Lord
wilt Thou guide me.......

© Dawn Michelle, All rights reserved June 14 2013

Lake of the Night

I was a fool, fooling myself
that I was okay
that I was strong enough
to live another day

For when I was me
stripped away from aids of help
when I stood on my own
It wasn't long before I fell

Permanance, it is
a permanent grief
living in a constant state of
tragedy, loss, trial.....

A tormented mind
without comprehension
of the things that I know
and I wonder aimlessly
for a fringe of the next life
for a glimpse of hope
that I will be new
that somehow
I will make it through

Yet here I sit
in my window of anguish
blessings a plenty
though broken in spirit
so that I cannot see
I cannot fly.....

O Lord! Will thou bring me again
to that foolishness of before
when I believed in what I know
and comfort was mine

Will Thou rescue me
from the rantings of my mind
that I may endure
and bear up all that comes my way

Wilt Thou pull me
from this lake of fear

for I am drowning......

© Dawn Michelle, All rights reserved June 13 2013