This feels less like a poem about Helen and more like a way of standing beside her — attentive, unflattening, unwilling to simplify.
I was especially struck by the way tension is treated here not as conflict, but as craft: leather and lace, red and green, discipline and want — all held without apology.
There’s a deep respect in this writing for the cost of kindness, and for intellect that doesn’t sever itself from weather, bodies, or care.
Thank you for offering a portrait that refuses the easy outline and chooses fidelity instead, Dorie.
Dorie, the tribute you have paid to Helen is truly touching. You have beautifully captured her complexity, the balance of intellect and emotion, her gentleness and strength, in such a poetic way that every line and moment highlights the light and kindness of her character. Reading this tribute truly makes one appreciate Helen’s life and essence.
Wow, Dorie, this is such a stunning portrait... layered, intelligent, tender, and fierce all at once. I love how you honor her complexity without trying to simplify or soften it, especially the way kindness is shown as a conscious, costly choice. And on a personal note, Helen has always been my favorite female name; it was my Nana’s name, too, so reading this felt especially close to the heart. 🤍
made me feel like I was bouncing on a trampoline made of words, flipping between red and green, leather and lace, trying not to land on anything sharp. I kept spotting the little sock and the moss like tiny treasures hidden in her world, and it made me giggle and grin while tiptoeing through all her brilliance. By the end, I was wobbling a little, eyes wide, heart full, feeling like I’d been let in on a secret playground of cleverness and courage~
Thank you so much for your comment. Helen has been incredibly gracious and grateful for letting me make her my muse for this poem. She’s an incredible woman.
I’ve been sitting with this, because it deserves more than a quick thank you. What you wrote felt like being seen with care rather than examined, and that’s rare.
The line about kindness as a deliberate practice stayed with me. It named something I’ve worked toward quietly, often imperfectly, and seeing it reflected back with such precision was unexpectedly moving. I cried. The idea of “weathered grace”, not as polish, but as something earned was also incredibly touching for me.
What I’m most grateful for is the attention you gave to complexity. To be held as both contradictory and coherent at the same time is a generous act, and I felt it as one. I've always considered myself oxymoronic, but this is far more eloquent. It's a theme that works throughout the whole piece, and I'm so grateful to be acknowledged as such.
Thank you for reading me so carefully, and for offering this with such thought and respect. I’ll carry it with me. Always.
I want you to know how much care I felt in this. It wasn’t just generous. It was precise. It was a gift. Being reflected back with that level of attention, without being simplified, is something I don’t take lightly.
This feels less like a poem about Helen and more like a way of standing beside her — attentive, unflattening, unwilling to simplify.
I was especially struck by the way tension is treated here not as conflict, but as craft: leather and lace, red and green, discipline and want — all held without apology.
There’s a deep respect in this writing for the cost of kindness, and for intellect that doesn’t sever itself from weather, bodies, or care.
Thank you for offering a portrait that refuses the easy outline and chooses fidelity instead, Dorie.
Thank you Birgit! Thank you for this wonderful and thoughtful comment!
Very beautifully written. Helen is awesome.
Helen is awesome.
Dorie, the tribute you have paid to Helen is truly touching. You have beautifully captured her complexity, the balance of intellect and emotion, her gentleness and strength, in such a poetic way that every line and moment highlights the light and kindness of her character. Reading this tribute truly makes one appreciate Helen’s life and essence.
I’m so glad you liked it. Thank you for reading, I appreciate your comment very much.
I feel honored reading this... It's a stunning poem
Wow, thank you, that’s an amazing compliment
Wow, Dorie, this is such a stunning portrait... layered, intelligent, tender, and fierce all at once. I love how you honor her complexity without trying to simplify or soften it, especially the way kindness is shown as a conscious, costly choice. And on a personal note, Helen has always been my favorite female name; it was my Nana’s name, too, so reading this felt especially close to the heart. 🤍
Thank you Andrea. 🩷
made me feel like I was bouncing on a trampoline made of words, flipping between red and green, leather and lace, trying not to land on anything sharp. I kept spotting the little sock and the moss like tiny treasures hidden in her world, and it made me giggle and grin while tiptoeing through all her brilliance. By the end, I was wobbling a little, eyes wide, heart full, feeling like I’d been let in on a secret playground of cleverness and courage~
How beautiful! 🌹
This feels like a metaphysical, profound exploration of a human,
Beyond body and sight - with the eyes of the soul.
I would be grateful if somebody did it for me.
Beautiful.
Thank you so much for your comment. Helen has been incredibly gracious and grateful for letting me make her my muse for this poem. She’s an incredible woman.
I’ve been sitting with this, because it deserves more than a quick thank you. What you wrote felt like being seen with care rather than examined, and that’s rare.
The line about kindness as a deliberate practice stayed with me. It named something I’ve worked toward quietly, often imperfectly, and seeing it reflected back with such precision was unexpectedly moving. I cried. The idea of “weathered grace”, not as polish, but as something earned was also incredibly touching for me.
What I’m most grateful for is the attention you gave to complexity. To be held as both contradictory and coherent at the same time is a generous act, and I felt it as one. I've always considered myself oxymoronic, but this is far more eloquent. It's a theme that works throughout the whole piece, and I'm so grateful to be acknowledged as such.
Thank you for reading me so carefully, and for offering this with such thought and respect. I’ll carry it with me. Always.
I want you to know how much care I felt in this. It wasn’t just generous. It was precise. It was a gift. Being reflected back with that level of attention, without being simplified, is something I don’t take lightly.
Thank you for seeing me this way, Dorie. Truly.