The Magic of Synchronicity

Talk about the oddities of intertextual concurrence. Just hours after I wrote the poem below (Feeding on Nectar), I got in my car to drive to a meeting and when I turned the key in the ignition, a song I had never heard before was coming through my speakers. This was it:

Link - "American Honey"

 
Coincidence?  I like to think not. 

The poem happens to be about my mother and it touches on the legacy her grandparents left behind, as well as the imagoes that have shaped my life and the way I view the world around me via my mother’s influence.   As for the song, it feels like it could have been written by the great B. Holligan herself; it resonates very deeply with me as it reflects many of the feelings I was attempting to capture in the poem.

There's a wild, wild whisper blowin’ in the wind
Callin’ out my name like a long lost friend
Oh I miss those days as the years go by
Ooh nothing’s sweeter than summertime
And American honey

Gone for so long now
I gotta’ get back to her somehow
To American honey

-“American Honey,” Lady Antebellum

Above is a photo of a cross stitch my mother made and gave to me this past Christmas.  It hangs in my hallway and reminds me daily of my Great Grandpa Wright who tended bees, and of my mother who maintains warm childhood memories of accompanying him to collect honey from the bee boxes.  On the back of the frame that houses the cross stitch is a laminated copy of my grandfather’s signature.  I never met the wonderful Edgar Wright my mother so often speaks of, but for as much as my mom carries him with her, I feel as though I have.