Friday, September 5, 2008

The Midas Touch

The Sunday Scribblings prompt is "miracle".

The Midas Touch

King Midas touched his young and tender daughter
and froze her to cold, still gold.
My father told it to me as a bedtime story
as he sat on the edge
of the narrow 1920s’ child’s bed
while I rested my head on my arm
(since pillows might cause humped shoulders
or spinal curvature).

Time is Midas’s touch,
a great transparent pane (called “Now”)
infinitely thin
that sweeps through our living world,
future before it,
the past behind it,
congealed at the moment of its passing
into “Past”, immutable as gold.

History might tell lies, memories might distort
but, in that universe of frozen action,
the truth cannot be changed.
Crystallized beyond that wall
that we can only see and never penetrate
is a young father, telling his little daughter
about King Midas.

26 comments:

latree said...

a sweet memory of your father.
my father also loved to tell stories when I was little. it was sweet moments I had.

Maggie May said...

Those first stories do stick in the mind for ever.
Lovely post.

anthonynorth said...

I like the idea of these stories frozen in time. And indeed I think they are for another reason other than being in your memory.
They are timeless stories in themselves, first narrated in ancient myths, and retold in every generation and culture since.

keith hillman said...

What a lovely post. Alas, in this technological world story telling is becoming thing of the past.

if said...

your insight is wonderful!

Linda Jacobs said...

I wasn't allowed to use a pillow, either! And the story of King Midas was one of my favorites. Great poem; it brought back a lot of memories for me.

Playitsam said...

One of my fondest memories is my father reading to me also. There's something golden about that relationship - and you don't need to have the Midas touch!

Terrie said...

For Marygold did not know that she had been a little golden statue; nor could she remember anything that had happened since the moment when she ran with outstretched arms to comfort poor King Midas.

Great blog

b said...

A lovely way of looking at our aging selves. We are still learning lessons over time from those that went before us.

b

AmbiguityLotus said...

A beautifully written poem. I enjoyed it thoroughly. Very nostalgic. Thank you for sharing!! :)

Rebeckah said...

I never heard that story or poem. I love it : )! We would be happy to mail you some lemonade : )! Any time! I thought of you today at the grocery store when I walked by the apples.

Tammy said...

I have so enjoyed your beautiful posts on my break. A golden truth!

HUG Granny

paisley said...

and a young daughter still believing,, that anything can happen... this was a lovey tale.. so glad you told it to me today...

Lucy said...

How lucky to have such a sweet memory, Granny! It's truly more precious than gold.

anno said...

Such a tender memory! I love the metaphor of Time being Midas's touch. Pure gold, indeed.

Jennifer Hicks said...

timeless miracles fuel us to move on....

susan said...

I like what you do, Granny.

Rinkly Rimes said...

A lovely memory. And one that has led me to find Sunday Scribblings! Verily (good word that!)the world of the Blog is like an Aladdins Cave!

Neilina said...

Aaah! This is just lovely. Wonderful memories. :)

TJ said...

Beautiful memories...cherished moments.
The love was felt through your post.
Smiling...
TJ
of TJ'S Expressions
Septemeber 7, Miracles
http://tjexpressionsblog.blogspot.com/

Jules said...

A beautiful poem about father. My dad has dementia and, recently, have begun to appreciate him more. He was absent most of our lives while growing up. I'm glad to be able to help him.

TD said...

Objectivity interwoven with subjectivity to create a cathartic truth. Where history and legend wed. Many thanks for the post.

ChefDruck said...

What a nice memory. Those fairy tales we heard as children were the true miracles. Thank you for sharing such a nice memory.

alister said...

Neat concept! To me, there’s something satisfying in considering especially endeared times of our lives as being permanently recorded in the annals of history through time whether or not they’re perpetuated by storytellers through the ages.
missalister

sarala said...

Beautiful. Although the image of your father telling the story of another daughter being turned to gold has a bit of a shivery feeling too.

Tammie Lee said...

I feel moved into contemplation and peace by your words. Lovely.