The Dream of Perpetual Sunshine

As a former English teacher, one of the many courses I taught was Creative Writing.  Naturally, we had a unit on poetry.  I wrote the curriculum and called this “Poetry Like the Pros.”  Students would model their own work after well-recognized and oft-praised poets.  For example, we did a nature walk where they obtained sensory details and then wrote a poem in the style of Robert Frost.  They also had to experiment with different forms of poetry.  One of my favorites has always been the sestina.  If you’re a writer or blogger, this is a fun form of poetry  to try your own hand at. 

The sestina, a French form, is an intricate form of six unrhymed stanzas of six lines each, followed by a Tercet (three lines). This type of form works well for the poet who wants to examine a subject from different viewpoints.  The sestina depends on the repetition of end-words, but be aware that only the end word repeats, not as in other French forms where the entire line repeats.

Choose any 6 words, such as:

a) daughter  b) sunshine  c) voice  d) garden  e) music  f) joy

The pattern:

Stanza 1: a, b, c, d, e, f

Stanza 2: f, a, e, b, d, c 

Stanza 3: c, f, d, a, b, e

Stanza 4: e, c, b, f, a, d

Stanza 5: d, e, a, c, f, b

Stanza 6: b, d, f, e, c, a

Tercet: ab, cd, ef

 

The Dream of Perpetual Sunshine

I have awaited your arrival my entire life, daughter

Believed fervently that you would erase the clouds and color the sky with your sunshine

I have prayed and prayed, God finally acknowledging my voice

I planted the seed of you in my mind – an ever-blooming garden

Your father and I held each other and collaborated on a gentle duet of music

The tears now gone – the frown now faded – you are my joy

I lived a life abundant with sin and sorrow, devoid of joy

Until I first held you in my arms, my daughter

To the chaos and cacophony, you brought temperance and a sweet, soothing music

My child – my love – my beautiful – my ethereal – my joy

You will bloom and grow in this life – Sarayu’s garden

I hope that in your silence, you might hear his mighty voice

 

Sweet child, so young, you have already found your unique voice

Your voice – your laughter – your gentle cooing – brings unto me pure joy

One day we will plod and plant together a simple, artful garden

In the garden, you will come to know strength and beauty, my precious daughter

The lily, the daisy, the lilacs too, all of these, as you, shall grow with sunshine

And the rose will be the grand conductor over every other flower as they  gleefully hum his music

 

Until this day, I have never heard a truer tune – such beloved, blessed music

Nothing – not Mozart, not Beethoven, nor Chopin – could compare to that cry – my own child’s voice

All failed to compare – even the warm, welcoming embrace of the summer sunshine

I wonder if, in all my life, I will ever know a greater, more genuine joy

Than the birth of my first child – my so deeply cherished own daughter

You are more grandiose – more exalted – than even the deepest red rose of the garden

 

You shall one day be required to tend to the dirt and weeds of your own garden

And darkness may drown out the light, a steely silence replace the exhalant music

You may then know the secret your mother holds, my own fragile daughter

And you might cringe at the sound of your own voice

You will search in the cupboards, the bureau drawers, the arms of strangers for anything resembling joy

And yet you will be denied those radiant rays of the now fickle sunshine

 

But I will always offer my love, my own warm embrace, even when skies are grey, my only sunshine

And I will uproot all those wicked weeds that attempt to cling to you in the great garden

Do not fear – do not lose hope – in time again, you will become well acquainted with joy

You won’t have to listen hard – or hush out any voices – to hear the music

Stronger now – wiser now – beaten, but not bruised – emerges a far more brilliant voice

They can never, ever quiet your shine, your strength, your shout, my daughter
 

  

I wish for my daughter to live in perpetual sunshine

I know her voice may falter if she fails to nurture her green garden

But I know, too, that even when the music is loud and out of tune, there still exists joy – joy – joy