When I am most sick, she confesses,
My mother’s face swims close
Like a dimly discerned form
On tree bark on which
I trace the tenderness I craved
Drawn by sickness to my window
Witnessing penance in unremitting pain
As in a cloister where whispers seek
Absolution that will never be given
By roots winding, coiling, her fingers
As leaves brushing bark into memory
Locked in a brace of trees.
(painting by Lee Madgwick used by permission
for dVerse’s Poetics ekphrastic prompt)
Dreams from a Pilgrimage 
Lovely poem.
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Thank you 🙏
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I sense a web of needs desired but not met here, or at the least delayed. There seems to be penance on both sides, and hesitancy, but at the same time a bond that has been damaged but that still holds. Forgive me if I have it wrong.
–Shay
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Dear Shay,
That’s exactly what I was trying to convey and you put it perfectly. You’re a wonderful poet so it’s not surprising you’re such a great reader: I love the attention you bring to both activities.
~Dora
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This is strange and beautiful. There’s something trapped and sad in your words.
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🙏🧡
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Those trees looks like a prison.
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Most claustrophobic.
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A wonderful rendering to the photo Dora.
Thanks for dropping by to read mine
Much💛love
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🙏💛
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I agree with Sarah, there’s a sad fragility here that seems almost fatal, like an ancient childhood wound or loss that has grown the carapace of this poem. Potent use of the image. Hope you’ve been well – Brendan
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Your reading is spot on, especially the subconscious undercurrents you pick up on, thank you, Brendan.
~Dora
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Thanks for sharing this poem. 🙌
Anita
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Thanks for reading, Anita. ❤️
~ Dora
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So many great lines in you fine poem, Dora. I really liked this set…
Witnessing penance in unremitting pain
As in a cloister where whispers seek
Absolution that will never be given
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Thanks, Dwight. The isolation in the picture really struck me, that shut in quality that sickness imposes on you.
~Dora
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It worked really well in your poem!
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There is something warm and comforting when:
Locked in a brace of trees.
The mother’s image and memory are what stood out for me. Take care Dora.
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Thank you, Grace. The painting does have that quality of tightness like the house is being held, doesn’t it?
~Dora
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You caught that painting perfectly. Those trees look like hands coming up from the grave.
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They do, don’t they? It lends that haunting quality to the painting. Thanks, Keith.
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This is both sad and chilling – memories that bring no comfort, only the absence of it
‘I trace the tenderness I craved’. Beautifully written, Dora.
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Thank you, Marion. Those trees in the painting just struck me as imprisoning rather than comforting. And the landscape … chilling as you say.
~Dora
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Yes, it’s a very thought provoking image.
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So much mystery with the poem, as with the image…so many questions!
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Exactly! Unfortunately, people can spend their lives asking questions that don’t have an answer (especially in familial relationships!) Accepting without a sense of injury or resentment that love is almost never given unconditionally except by God is not an easy lesson to learn. Thanks for reading, Jimmy.
~Dora
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This is so true Dora:” Accepting without a sense of injury or resentment that love is almost never given unconditionally except by God is not an easy lesson to learn.” So true
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There is something very unsettling about all his images. The trees do seem to be holding too tightly. There’s a pensive longing in your words for the embrace that was perhaps not warm and caring. Very haunting but beautiful write, Dora.
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Thank you, Punam. Certainly that was my first impression: that ambivalent quality you describe so well.
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How well you’ve captured the essence of the image., the em/brace of the trees. (K)
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Thank you, Kerfe. I couldn’t resist that particular word association/sleight of tongue. Glad you mentioned it. 🙂
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Hope in the darkness. Hands of comfort when in need.. good one
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Powerful poem, Dora ~ especially love the lines: Witnessing penance in unremitting pain, As in a cloister where whispers seek…
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Thank you, Dalo. The painting seemed to evoke thoughts of a cloister, some type of self-imposed or compelled isolation.
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