- Michal (Mitak) Mahgerefteh
I'm working on a new poetry collection centered on depression in aging adults, inspired by my father's experience after my mother's passing in 2010.
You are invited to leave a comment under each poem. Visit often to read the poems in-progress.
Started the writing May 2020
during May Mental Health Awareness.
"The best thing you could do is master the chaos in you.
You are not thrown into the fire; you are the fire."
Childhood images spill into mind,
father attentive, tapping on The Book:
I was six when we drove from Masada
down the Aravah Valley toward the old
city of Jericho, sticking my head outside
the window charmed by morning haze…
revealing the Moab Mountains shading
pools of pink and purple onto the Dead Sea,
not a ripple on the glossy surface just flaky
points sparkling like crystals on the salty
formation, you held my hand by the edge
of the youngest body of water, out of habit,
“Turks and Bedouin early history still stirs
the prosaic shore,” father nodding knowingly,
“You were a curious child,” he says awkwardly.
Since I left, I’ve yearned for a kind word,
not jumbled words made to prayer or psalm
to end a conversation—but a warm welcome,
spontaneous and protective after separation…
for thirty-five years this nameless ache stands
mute in verses, no metaphors… people create
weariness, to some it seems pleasant, as father
not about to offer a glimpse of understanding;
like an old dream he leans on the back of his
armchair averting my attention to the thick fog
masking the Blvd, “Our world shrunk by time
and place,” he says, “I regret letting you go...”