“But little Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men Go often awry,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain, For promised joy!
Still you are blessed, compared with me! The present only touches you:
But oh! I backward cast my eye,
On prospects dreary!
And forward, though I cannot see, I guess and fear! “
Excerpt ‘To a Mouse’ by Robert Burns
The empty house is quiet now
it echoes sounds from Christmas past
of footsteps running down the hall,
the moments that we thought would last.
The frost lays heavy on the sill
to set upon us winter’s chill,
no children’s giggles filled with mirth
or Christmas greetings of goodwill.
The stillness breaks, another dawn
our children grow to leave the nest
to make new memories of their own–
as roles reverse and are recast.
A star still shines from highest bough
traditions passed from mom to son,
and in the baubles on the tree
images of yesterdays
filled with love and family...
and so it is we pass baton
and watch them leave, and carry on.
© Ginny Brannan 2023
*The piece by Robert Burns is written in heavy Scottish dialect, and while a pleasure to read and see in original form, it is a difficult read to translate and grasp, so I chose the English translation.
