By Luanna K. Leisure
Santa Clara County Branch, California
As I stood on the banks of the Rhine
gazing across to France,
I wondered if my forefathers took a boat across this area of the Rhine.
I stared at the water as if I could see them.
Mesmerized by the beauty of the Black Forest
and the art created with such lovely trees,
I imagined my ancestors in their workshops
carving beautiful clocks or artistic pieces of furniture.
Deutschland? Black Forest? Black Dutch?
Did they call themselves Black Dutch when they arrived in America
because they had left the land of their birth, Deutschland?
Had they lived in the Black Forest?
Had my family explored the Burg Eltz medieval castle
in the hills above the Moselle,
or harvested grapes from the terraced grape vineyards
on the rolling hills above the Rhine?
Who were they and what did they do?
I questioned again and again,
Who were they and what did they do?
Before leaving for my homeland, America,
I wanted to stand on the banks of the Rhine one more time
to soak into my soul the memories of my search.
As I planted my feet on the banks of the Rhine
tears welled up in my eyes. Why?
I kept questioning my feelings.
Was it a feeling of longing or loss?
Why did I feel like I belonged here?
Without warning I began to sob as I felt the wind
and was wrapped in the spirit of my ancestors.
We have a natural yearning to revisit places of our ancestors, distant or recent. The beauty of the images put us there with you, and we can identify with the feelings you express so well. Thank you.
Beautifully expressed Luanna. I could feel the spirits of your ancestors reaching out to you through the sights, sounds and touch of the elements. Brava!
Luanna, there’s so much here to admire. The images of the terraced vineyards, the medieval castle, the hand-carved clocks. The sounds of the words, especially in the last stanza. The universal emotions of wondering about those who preceded us. The title is perfect, for we are “planted” in our own place and time, as the speaker of this poem “planted” her feet near the river. And at some point, our ancestors uprooted themselves. Well done!
Hello Karen,
Thank you for your review. I’m so excited you understand my poem! My husband didn’t like my title. I was adamant on the title because that was the way I felt while standing there on the banks of the Rhine. And, your understanding of our ancestors uprooting themselves. I’m amazed.
Luanna–such a beautiful poem regarding ancestors. As a national and Kentucky author as well, I love writing about my ancestors from Europe–England and Africa. The research caused me to write poems about my ancestors as well.
BRAVO!! For your beautiful poetry filled with cherished words of remembrance!
Charlene,
Thank you so much for your kind, supportive comments with understanding about the search for ancestors. It is a joy to write about them, isn’t it? Makes feel a little closer.
Luanna
This beautiful descriptive poem painted such a beautiful picture. It caused me to have emotions of compassion for Luanna.
Carol,
I still cry when I get to the end of my poem. Why? I remember the feeling so well, being wrapped by the wind, chills when it wasn’t cold. Feeling I wasn’t alone.
Luanna
Thank you for sharing this very touching poem. Your vivid images are wonderful!
Winnie,
Thank you!!
Lovely. My ancestors come from Italy or near the Ukraine
I too wonder the same as I know so little about them and long for family stories which will never come
This is such a powerful poem that allows the reader to close their eyes and be there with you. I love it
Thank you, Dorothy. It was truly a powerful experience.
BRILLIANT!!! xoxo
Thank you, Dianne!
Luanna–How beautiful and poignant! I could replace many of the references with ones referencing my ancestral homeland of Italy. Such universal sentiments that many descendants of immigrants can relate to.
Tessa,
I have heard from several others who have had similar experiences. Amazing, isn’t it?