Buck
yourself up you say granddad, the worlds a wonderful place if you just look for
it. I’d love to be as delusional as you
are granddad, still as innocent as the day you were born, aren’t ya.
Okay,
okay, yes where we are right now, this very spot, takes my breath away, fills
me up, it is truly beautiful, I love being here. (And I do love you.)
This
meadow where we sit, look at it look at it, look how beautiful it is. The flowers!
The flowers! Oh so beautifully lovely! But what you don’t see granddad
is the battle beneath, the never ending battle between predator and prey. Little tiny life forms forever at war. Insect eats insect. Bird eats insect, small mammals eat
insect. Birds of prey eat small birds
and small mammals, big mammals eat little mammals; it just goes on and on.
Look
over there granddad, the lambs – well sheep really – nibbling at the grass on
yonder hill, how idyllic a scene. But
you must realise they are not there to make the world look pretty. They will end up on your plate granddad, we
are their predator, they are our prey.
Yes I know you’ve never killed one – we leave that to someone else,
someone else in some distant abattoir.
The workers there must become immune to death or relish it, killing as
cruelly as they can. I wouldn’t like to
be them.
You
think I’m a pessimist granddad – well I guess I am, maybe a realist? Do I think this world a wonderful place? Overall, no.
But now and again wonderful things do happen here and I do love
life. There are some beautiful things
here granddad, including you, beauty breathes from you, straight from that
wonderful mind of yours. So right now,
this very minute, the world is indeed
beautiful, a wonderful place to be.
Thanks
granddad.
Anna
:o]
Sumana’s
prompt today (at Poets United) is that of The World Is A Beautiful Place, this being the
first line and title of a wonderful poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti.
Above
is my response to same, this written as prose.
Cheers
Sumana!
Image: Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Author: Jonathan Billinger
17 comments:
What a touching tribute to your grandad..you have made magic with your words
How cold there be a world with no eating in it? I wonder. Or at least kindness and gratitude in the great chain of food? I love this talk with a grandfather, a talk which turns into a tribute of the best kind.
Dear Anna, this is such an introspective piece; it makes one wonder about the meaning of beauty in such a context wherein survival depends on this interplay between predator and prey. I enjoyed the conversational tone which makes it personal, so the reader appears to be eavesdropping in such a setting, which to me speaks as much as the content.
It's a beautiful tribute; that bit where you say that beauty radiates from him is heartwarming.
It's perhaps only about perspective in the end — we find beauty where we want to find it.
xoxo Anmol
Aah...the granddad in the poem makes a beautiful world for me. And I love this notion of being a realist. It has to be an amazing world where there is someone who breathes beauty. What a lovely poem Anna!
Loved your talk with granddad.
I identify with your granddad, as in spite of everything I see and grieve around me, the world always dazzles me with its beauty. Even the way the whole system works in its interconnected way blows me away. I loved reading this.
Love sparks the beauty in and around us. Luv this conversation of beauty.
Happy ypu dropped by my blog today Anna
Much🌈love
Yes, the world is a beautiful place, but sadly it would be even more beautiful without humankind thinking they own everything so they can trash the planet. If only we had strong responsible governance keen on preserving the Earth for everyone, not just planning which other planet to go to once we had trashed this one.
It's wonderful to have a granddad's eyes to see through. Now I'm a grandmother, I hope to do the same for my grandson, show him the world through my eyes so he has more than one perspective.
I love the voice in this prose poem, Anna.
A sweet poem and a real poem, I enjoyed reading.
Sometimes i like to be around a blinkered optimist, it soothes me, but only in limited doses. I got stuck on the lamb--I can't do vegetarianism cos I'd starve, but i quit eating babies (lamb, veal, calves' liver) many years ago.
Your granddad sound like a wonderful, heartening person to be around. Wish I had his view.
I don't think I have anyone in my life that is so positive, and I'm usually seen as the pessimist. I loved the dynamic on display here, the dichotomy between the two people. I wonder if, as he got older, he adopted a more positive outlook or was he always that way? And the realization that beauty is never purely objective, but comes in a series of moments, this stuck out to me. Very nice work.
Grandad was making the best of everything and I understand that.You do your best and what you cannot change you let it go and enjoy the rest.
I remember that poem, read it last when I was a teenager! (the Ferlinghetti I mean). Your work is always thought provoking.
You reminded us in a poignant way of one of life's great contradictions. Who knows if we would cherish the beauty of life so much if there was no death ...
I like this Anna. There aren't enough poems written about us granddads. Inside we're like the inards of a computer you know, binary, two states, either On or Off.
(BTW, you're link at the Toads doesn't come here, it gives us your neverland.)
I feel bad when I see those piggies crowded in the the truck. They're on their way to market so you and I can eat. Every piece of bacon I eat makes me think of these poor little pigs. That doesn't make me stop eating them, just wish there was another way.
Across the table today sits a bionic man. Petroleum product is his main course. The holes we've dug for extracting his food don't bother us, they're all in China now. A rescue man discarded by a Super Rich, he is so grateful to us.
Pass the bacon please
Before we smack you again
We're so glad you came
..
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