A Mother in 1954, or Why I Am a Masterpiece :)

Accompli

A time ago, in teachered halls,
I waged a struggle
To outdo
My fellows in the game of school.
And I can say,
To some extent, I did indeed.
I wrote exams concise and clear
In such a way
My tutors thought
They'd taught me much.
And while I ciphered, memorized,
Translated, studied
With the "grinds" -
I also dabbled into sports
And mixed with the politicos,
The all-round student,
Magna cum laude.
But I felt no pride --
More that I'd somehow failed.
The hollow honors
Could not fill my heart
With feelings of accomplishment.

I love the mountains,
So I ranged in them -
In worlds of earth and sky;
Of jagged rock and cushion moss;
Hot sun; dusty trails;
Cool lakes at timberline.
I often spurned
The intimate comfort
Of a tiny, rushing stream
For barren grandeur
And perhaps for some subjective notoriety
Of summit registers.
Snow slopes called me too;
And I saw them fresh, untracked;
Or gay with Sunday crowds.
In mountains I found solace
For my soul,
But no answer to its quest.

I have worked in science
On the edge of knowledge.
A step or two -
Small but firm -
I have taken on the ladder
(Of someone else's crafting)
Where no one else has stood
For a moment.
The challenge of problem, solved;
The warmth of job well done;
But call to the spirit?  No.

The arts I touched as well.
I turned the brush to canvas,
Writing with color;
The pen to paper,
Sketching with rhyme.
Searching, searching myself
For some minor masterpiece.
Pleasure I found,
But not elation - not exultation.

Till now.
Now I but stroke the silken hair
Of my slumbering son
And I am graduated
Magna Cum Laude,
Into the World
Of surpassing accomplishment
Which I have sought.

To Eric and David, 1954