The Memory Room: A Poem about Remembering

I was honored to recently have a glimpse into a room that held a lot of memories of a family I have known for a few years. I wrote this because I was so touched that I was allowed to glimpse into the room and share the memories for the moment.

Memory Room

It’s the small room

tucked upstairs

out of the view

of most visitors

but I linger there often

sometimes staying busy

with a task at hand

but sometimes

just remembering

the hands who had

touched all that

I filled this room with…

a grandmother who

dusted the top of the chest,

the young girl who

tugged at a dresser drawer,

the mother who lifted

the lid of the wooden chest

to fill it with keepsakes

and memories for me

to hold dear…

so, when I am here

in my memory room

I am surrounded by

the touches of

generations before me

who placed pictures on

dressers and folded clothes

for the drawers and laughed

and cried over items that

were shared and treasured

over time and I add my

touches to each piece and

leave behind my treasures

on the wooden surfaces or

hidden deep inside and

I place items for my

daughter within her reach

and put treasures just

out of reach of my

first grandchild and I

wonder who will dust

these next after me

and who will open

a drawer and smile

at what was left inside

and who will be the

keeper of the memories

I have inside my memory room.

                              –Chris Pepple ©2019

Undocumented

Undocumented—

Throw that word away,

dear child, throw it away,

because that word will

never define you

or your gifts and talents,

your hopes,

your loves,

your fears,

and your life is

already documented…

your name is written

on the hearts

of those who

know you best

and call you

Beloved One

and a Creator

whispers your name

in the darkness

you journey through

and weeps when

you feel lost

and loves you

so much that your

story is woven into

all of our stories

and documented

in the history of

who we are

and you will

never be forgotten

because you

are forever

loved…

–Chris Pepple, 2018

www.chrispepple.com

In that Moment

I wrote this poem in honor of the birth of someone special–the first grandchild of a wonderful friend.  I’m so thrilled for the family! I can still remember the first moments I held my children…

 

In That Moment

 

For one moment, my world stopped for you—

all of my worries slipped away

and thoughts of what must be done next

gave way to thoughts of this moment…

the moment you were first placed in my arms

and I held you

 and touched your tiny fingers

 and gazed at your toes

and looked deeply into your eyes

and knew that you

were now a part of who I am

and my love grew deeper

in that moment

as I knew I would

forever hold you

in my heart…

and no other thoughts

came to mind other than

my joy

in that moment…

my first memory

made with you.

                                       –Chris Pepple © 2018

 

The Rising

The Rising

I remember the

falling and

the feeling of

failing—the

flight down

took one word

to begin and

years to finish.

Tethered by shame

and pain, I stayed

down until that

one breath—the sigh

that turned into

a whisper …

a small call to

an identity free

from the chains in

the depths of defeat—

and I listened and

I whispered more truths

before finally speaking

my own hope aloud.

And I felt myself

rise first to my knees;

then in prayerful

belief that life awaited,

I felt the pain

of muscles straining

to stand and felt the

flesh tearing as

the chains fell.

But this pain was

affirming my hopes,

and I rose to my feet

and pulled myself

from the pits of your hell,

and as the air reached

my wings, I knew

I had survived.

I rose. I flew.

I began to thrive. 

                                     –Chris Pepple ©2017

The Days

This was written for a dear friend who shared her thoughts with me…I heard you…I’m so sorry for the sorrow and struggles you are facing…Just know I heard you and I love you…I put some of your words into a poem:

The Days

 

The days pass by so quickly

Some without the joy

I thought I would always carry with me…

I try to recapture it

by hearing your voice call my name

as you did all through my childhood…

calling me for meals or church

or to remind me of a chore…

calling me to share news

or just to check in

You walk with me

even on days when we

are not together…

On days when I am closed

in an office with numbers

swirling around in a tornadic frenzy

until I gather them to their

cells on the spreadsheet before me…

You are with me when I worship…

Even when you are in a church miles away

or resting at home because

you can no longer make the trip…

You are with me on the drive to see you

in a home that will always fill my heart and soul

with thoughts of family and meals

and prayers and time that seemed to stop

for just a moment when we laughed…

I cannot slow time

I cannot heal

But I can love

I can remember

I can live out

all that I was taught

and hold on to

all that I cherish

and pass along

the stories to

all who will listen…

And I will remember…

And I will love…

–Chris Pepple ©2017

When I Say the Words

When I Say the Words

By Chris Pepple ©2017

 

When I say the words

“I love you” to my neighbors,

to my friends,

to those I’ve known for years,

and to those I met

on the journey today,

I’m telling you that I see you—

The whole you…all of you.

I am not afraid of

the sight of your scars

or the sounds of your crying

or the knowledge of weaknesses…

I love the darkness of your

chocolate-colored skin

and the depth of brownness

in your soul-revealing eyes…

And I also love

the desert-kissed skin of

you, my friend, with

your deep black hair and

your chestnut-colored lips

that highlight the smile

that draws us all

into your joy…

And you with the

terra-cotta blush and

the laughter in your eyes…

And you with the

sand-colored hands

and green eyes

that disguise your mischief…

And you with the

ivory unblemished skin and blue eyes…

Or you—the one who wears your age

and shows your leathery arms

as you toil again through the day…

And you as you paint with the sunrise

or sing well past the sunset

or dance with the wind

or hum quietly as you write

or cook like your grandmother

the buttery-rich comfort food

or you—the one who adds

the spice that kicks in with each bite.

I love you

because you are like me—

You seek joy,

follow hopes,

love deeply,

daydream,

toil,

fear…

I love you

because you are different—

You sing a different song,

dance to a different beat,

create with a different style,

love in a different way,

toil using your unique gifts,

fear a different enemy…

I see you—the whole you…

And celebrate us all today…

 

By Chris Pepple ©2017