Where the Windmills Wait: A Poem for My Dutch Forebears
During our recent journey through Belgium and the Netherlands with Tauck, I stood before the windmills of Kinderdijk and felt something stir deep within me. My great-grandfather, Jipa Wiebern Jouwsma (sp), left this part of the world in 1891—likely passing through the port of Antwerp—to make a life in the United States. I know very little about his story, but I carry the legacy of his decision.
A Painting and a Poem
Inspired by that moment, I asked Leonardo—my name for ChatGPT—to help me reflect in two ways: by transforming my photograph into a painting in the style of Monet, and by capturing the emotion in verse.
This poem is dedicated to those who came before me, and to all who walk in the footsteps of their ancestors.
A digital interpretation of Kinderdijk in the style of Monet, created from my original photograph
Where the Windmills Wait
The light is soft, like memory,
and bends across these fields for me.
A golden hush, a whispered prayer,
as if they always knew I’d care.
The windmills wait in patient rows,
their arms still turning, slow and low.
They saw my kin in younger days—
before goodbye, before the waves.
I feel the ache they must have known,
to leave behind what once was home.
A hearth, a lane, a chapel bell,
the tender things they couldn’t tell.
This beauty stirs a quiet ache,
a longing that no time can shake.
To walk the land their feet once knew,
to stand where parting sorrow grew.
And yet—there’s something bright in me,
born of their brave decision to be
a branch that reached across the sea,
to plant a future: me, set free.
So here I stand, both whole and torn,
by love for roots and dreams unborn.
The past behind, the path ahead—
I thank the hearts who wept, who fled.
Their courage rides the evening breeze,
it hums among the trembling reeds.
And in the hush of setting sun,
I meet the ones from whom I come.
Standing there, in this scene where my forebears perhaps stood, turned out to be more of an emotional experience than I expected.
ChatGPT captured it well:
So here I stand, both whole and torn,
by love for roots and dreams unborn.
The past behind, the path ahead—
I thank the hearts who wept, who fled.
Their courage rides the evening breeze,
it hums among the trembling reeds.
And in the hush of setting sun,
I meet the ones from whom I come.
When I say that it was an emotional experience, even though I haven’t met any of my distant relatives, this place gave me a sense that “I met the ones from whom I came.” 
See More from Our Journey:
This experience was part of our recent Tauck river cruise through Belgium and Holland.
To see all of our daily highlights, reflections, and photos, visit our full cruise landing page here.
For more information or to book a Tauck river cruise, please call Roaming Boomers Travel Services at (480) 550-1235 or use our convenient online information request (click here) and we’ll reach out to you.
If you enjoyed this article, sign up for our travel newsletter to keep abreast of our best travel tips, on-location reviews, exclusive travel offers, group travel events, and much more.
This article was written with the aid of Perplexity AI, Grok, or ChatGPT. Roaming Boomers Travel Services is an independent affiliate of Cadence and a Virtuoso® member. CST#201120-40
The post Where the Windmills Wait: A Poem for My Dutch Forebears appeared first on The Roaming Boomers
