The Daily: 8 November 2023

Posted on by Eliza Daley

It is Martinmas this weekend, an old day of remembrance for the victims of warring, created anew at the end of World War I. It is called Remembrance Day in much of the world. It is Veteran’s Day in the US, reflecting perhaps our blinkered perception of who suffers and dies when men use violence to satisfy their wants.

St Martin protects those who fight for the causes of others. He also leads the way out of such entrapment. He walked away from the Roman cavalry and gave his life to care work. We remember him as a bishop, but he began that life as a soldier who laid down his weapons.

It is good to remember that it is possible to walk away, even from empires… It is good to remember that there are paths out… It is good to remember… so that there is a future.

Wednesday Word

for 8 November 2023

remembrance

You can respond in the comments below or go visit the All Poetry contest for November. Your response can be anything made from words. I love poetry, but anything can be poetic and you needn’t even be limited to poetics. An observation, a story, a thought. Might even be an image — however, I am not a visual person, so it has to work harder to convey meaning. In the spirit of word prompts, it’s best if you use the word; but I’m not even a stickler about that. Especially if you can convey the meaning without ever touching the word.

If responding on All Poetry, you are limited to the forms of that medium, though my contests are fairly open as to form. However, if you have something long, post it in the comments below. That said, please don’t go too long. Keep it under 2000 words. I’m not going to count, but I’m also not promising to read a novel.

Unless it’s really good!

If you have nothing to say, that’s fine. I know you all are busy and distracted. But if you’ve read this far, then I’ve made you think about… remembrance.

the memory keeper

i am a candle
on the western windowsill
dim flame of faith
in our embodied being
a field of crimson flowers
and grey stone
for remembrance and forgetting

i am the word
under the palimpsest
sad song of soothsaying
whispered in darkness
an echo of damned daffodils
and watery mirrors
revealing flesh under skin

i am a memory
slipping through oily fingers
elusive hope
for orphaned children
a sunrise on native morning
and stars of good counsel
giving past to future

i am the vessel
brimming with new wine
elixir of wholeness
flowing freely forth
tether of wisdom
and attentive sense
to heal the all harms
of my forefathers

i am the mother
and my children
are forever

©Elizabeth Anker 2023

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