From the collection Unpredictable Hue, 2018.


the seeds fell
out of the nest Home
sweet home as
they thought of
the place and why not because
they had been raised there

hadn’t they
but when autumn came
rude shock Sent
on their way
Booted out Fend for themselves
What? You say burrow

in the ground
and wait? For how long
and do what
while waiting?
so many questions children
have at this time when

the front door
shuts behind them When
home is where
they’re going
When parents must wait for spring
and some kind of word

(shadorma chain)

9 thoughts on “Embarked

  1. Aw, to read this, in the times of Corona. You put words on so much!
    It also makes me think of a very famous Swedish poem (we Swedes tend to be close to mother Nature), which is about puberty and becoming an adult: the spring bud that is aching, bursting, hesitating, not knowing what will come, the water drop hesitating to fall, but eventually letting go and fall down, heavy by its own weight, and it ends with relief and joy when it finally bursts free. I can’t give it justice here, but just to say, your poem evokes the same strong feeling with me.

  2. Depending on his behaviour I’m fortunate/unfortunate my 2 year old is securely ‘rooted’ in my home. Can’t imagine what it will be like when he finally sprouts up and leaves the nest.

    Wonderful poem Claudia, that implements nature so well. Particularly enjoyed likening the children to seeds. 👍

  3. I love the combination of ideas in this poem – fledgling birds leaving the nest, seeds setting forth to grow independently, and parents preparing for children to leave home. I like the rooting (pun intended) of that very human experience into the wider context of the natural world and the cycles of life.

  4. I think I was reflecting (as I continue to do today) on all these topics – the older I get, the more I see my own life moving to its end, I also see the new generations coming up and the world continuing. I have lots of hope for those coming along in future years, as they grow.

  5. Thank you. Though I wrote this poem a while back the themes are on my mind these days, I just became a grandmother this week. I predict, that you will be looking back someday and saying, how could he have been so small? How could that be so long ago?

  6. Thank you. You have made my day. This week I became a grandmother for the first time and I feel a sense of completion and possibilities at the same time at this event. In these days I also feel so much that we are on the edge of change, what kind I don’t know, but I hold on to the good, the hope for the future, and the new little shoots beginning to grow among old trees (like me).

  7. That’s wonderful news, congratulations Claudia! I love how you describe family as a forest, you’ll be a great grandma-tree to protect and nourish the young shoots. They can listen to your stories as you protect them from the wind, and I’m sure you’ll be letting a lot of sun shining through.
    We just have to keep shining, whatever comes ahead. Do our best, and have faith. Perhaps things can only get better from here?

  8. I am feeling that we are at the beginning of a new phase for our world, and there will be much disruption and difficulty for us to pass through before we come out into a better place, and I wonder even if I myself will see it, but younger people will, the little seedlings and saplings, maybe. And in the meantime we try to keep a good faith and portray kindness and helping. At least that is what I think. To me trees are symbols of endurance and community, and as you say, we have to just keep shining out that feeling, as best we can. I just try to have hope.

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