What do I know?
I saw a mourning dove yesterday morning
hopping along the sidewalk near me.
My mother taught me of mourning doves
so I knew this one by her shape, color, size --
though then she did not speak.
I crept up quietly, but she knew and flew.
The roof was a safe place; the roof and the sky,
because she has wings and I do not.
I could see only her silhouette there
but it still said mourning dove to me.
This morning I heard her plaintive call:
Coo ah coo coo coo.
And: Coo ah coo coo coo.
That was all she ever said, over and over again.
But now I only hear the chirping and trilling of other smaller birds.
I wait with my ears open.
Now I hear her again: Coo ah coo coo coo.
Yesterday I did not hear. Today I do not see.
So tell me, is there a mourning dove around?
Tell me what you know.
~*~*~
I wrote this as a simple Facebook post last year, not even as a poem. It came up in my Memories feed. I did not mention in that post that this day, July 19, is the anniversary of my mother's death in 2013. The image of a mourning dove is so relevant here.
I am writing a book now, Burned: Rising from the Ashes of Spiritual Crisis. In my chapter on the restorative spiritual practice of Lament, I tell a "small story" about the grief of losing my mother after a long hospitalization due to surgical complications. It is my mother who taught me so much of what I do know, about nature and so much more. I am so grateful for her life, even as I still mourn her death eight years later. The grief is quiet, like a mourning dove, but it is still there, even if I do not always see or hear it.
So tell me, what do you know?
Grace and peace,
Virginia
P.S. #1: It's been over a year since I've written on this blog. I'll do a new update post soon. So much has happened!
P.S. #2: Other posts related to my mother:
