By Eithne Cullen

Welcome to September’s Thoughtful Tuesday page. This September has been overshadowed by the death of the Queen. Many people’s thoughts are with her and with her family; many need to take some time to reflect on her life and her passing.

It’s a coincidence that I have this lovely piece from Dr Afsana Elanko, who shared some words from her mother in July’s Thoughtful Tuesday page: a little reminder of how to be mindful.  Maybe it will help us to connect with the world. I’m also including Tears, a beautiful poem by AJ Wilson, written specifically to mark Her Majesty’s passing.

After these first two pieces you will find the rest of the page as it was originally intended, including my introduction, which is all about taking us on a little world journey of our own.

Doc’s Corner: An Invitation For Mindful Reflection

When my mother passed away, I was understandably very upset and raw, like any other person would be. Over time, this pain has been consolidated into memories of times that make me laugh, make me sad and make me shake my head. Overall, however, what really stands out is her words. What my mother used to say and what she meant were sometimes completely different, but you understood the message. It’s these messages, nuggets of advice and comments, that make a difference to us personally and shape us into the beautiful, wonderful people we become. We don’t realise how important they are, until time has passed. So, I invite you to reflect:
Take ten minutes…

Take ten minutes…

1. Sit in a place where you will not be disturbed.
2. Take a slow deep breath in and feel it go into your belly and breathe out slowly. Feel the rhythmical movement as you breathe slowly in and out for the next minute.
3. Think of what your parents, grandparents, teacher used to say. For each memory, ask yourself the following question:
   1. What is my understanding now?
   2. What did I understand at the time?
   3. Are the comments/words still relevant?
4. After nine minutes take a slow deep breath in and feel it go into your belly and breathe out slowly. Feel the rhythmical movement as you breathe slowly in and out for the next minute.

After this exercise, realise you have just completed the same task with many other people around the world. This magazine is read in 197 countries. We may be worlds apart in our cultures, religions, beliefs, but we are united in our thoughts. The power of words has a dramatic effect on our lives. Thank you for taking this journey with me.

© Dr Afsana Elanko, 2022

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This last-minute addition comes from AJ Wilson, a poet I have featured regularly. She has written these lines as an homage to Her Majesty’s passing.

Tears

tears of love formed jewels
and violins cried out in harmony with the pain
that hung hard on this shadowed day
when all was lost, when there was
no return to life as it had been
and would
never be
again

© AJ Wilson, 2021

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I’m always feeling a bit back-to-schoolish in September, and wonder what people would say if I asked them what they did on their summer holidays? This fits in so well with our theme of ‘Worlds Apart’ so, whether we’ve been to Broadstairs or Bermuda this summer, and whether we’ve had a day trip or a long break, September invites our stories from all parts of the world. With that in mind, the next few pieces will be taking us on a little world journey of our own.

Patricia Bidi’s woodblock print called The Journey Of Life, sets us up perfectly for the journey:

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This image links us into this short but powerful piece from Write On! Editor, Madeleine:

Future

Ancestors’ wisdom drums through bones
That hold me upright as I run towards the future
While cupping the delicate flame of now in my hands.

© Madeleine White, 2019

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This next submission from Jack Tattersall takes us on a journey out to sea, evoking the feeling of the movement of the boat, even if we’ve never sailed before.

That Edge

Wind push
Tilt to extreme
The keel cuts
The surface
Just beneath
You hold us
We slice the
Blue water
I’m way out
Feet my body
An arch
Bow line
Single wing
Out
Im too fine
To light
But you sit
At my feet
Line the sail
Keep the keel
Let me fly
Inches skimming
Above the waves
Your weight
My gate
At my feet
I the spinnaker
(I am your spinnaker)

© Jack Tattersall, 2021

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Poet Diane Mangal also encourages us to explore the water in her poem, You Wonder, but her journey is much more a journey of the mind. 

You Wonder

Waiting for something different
to happen
Just to blow you
out of the water
everything is going swimmingly
then traffic does not move
you will be there so soon

Oh my days
to be there in my own
sweet time

© Diane Mangal, 2012

Lingering Intution can be purchased on Amazon: amazon.co.uk/Lingering-Intuition-Diane-Francelia-Mangal/dp/1456828312

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This next poem from Kashvi Dikshit captures a moment in time, a change in the weather and some inspiration for the poets in us all:

Drops Of Ale

Drops of ale from celestial spheres
Adorn a poet’s glass-glazed windows
Windows that leak pools of ale
That adorn a girl’s sleet-stained pillow.

She would look at the rain-stained windows as a curious child
Betting on which one would race down the car windshield first
One drop would surpass all others in the blink of an eye
And
suddenly
s t o p
in its tracks—
Whilst the others would pass by with ease.

A lived truth in a child’s make-believe
Glass-glazed windows stare back at me
Whether it rains outside or it is a reflection of me
I do not know, save for my rain-stained cheek.

She would wonder at the little raindrop stuck hither
Rooting for its victory though all others won before it
Slowly but surely the drop would find its path
And
g
e
n
t
l
y
slide into the sill of the windshield wiper

Childlike innocence often seeps timeless wisdom
That lacks in the years that follow
Why mustn’t I root for my own victory
With the same faith as that in the little drop?

Drops of ale from celestial spheres
Adorn a poet’s glass-glazed windows
Windows that leak pools of ale
That adorn a girl’s sleet-stained pillow.

© Kashvi Dikshit, 2022

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Here’s a little trip to the breakfast table from Priyanka Nawathe:

Pop Of The Morning To You

A toaster gleamed grey as the sun cast its first rays through the kitchen window. A slice of bread waited like a kid in an elevator as seconds ticked away, turning it brown. After what felt like forever, the slice popped up with a ding, reminding everyone of the hellish heat its blackened crumbs carried. Diamonds come from coal. But the only thing shining in that kitchen was the metallic toaster that popped out the coal dust of the charred bread. Off it went in the bin, jumping to its eternal damnation before the toaster would have to bear the brunt of its hungry owner.

(I wrote this piece during Pen to Print’s Writing The Senses Workshop conducted by Eithne Cullen.)

© Priyanka Nawathe, 2022

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Finally, when I was a girl, the arrival of the sandman was a signal for us to go to bed. I was surprised to learn they have other ways of sending children to bed in other parts of the country. Here’s a piece from Leicestershire, from Tina Barsby:

The Nine O’clock Horses

Do you know what time it is?
The Nine O’clock Horses will soon be here.
And if you’re not in bed by the time they come…
They will take you away, far away
And make you work all night.

In my head
Sometimes these horses were a wild wilful herd with no saddles or riders
Sometimes they were big and black and decked in black leather tackle, ridden by swarthy men in big black boots and flat black caps
And sometimes it was just one horse, coming solely and specifically for me.

© Dr Tina Barsby, 2022

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Best wishes, Eithne

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