Category: life

Do We Ever Know?

Did she know,
setting the empty bottles
on the stoop,
or later, reading the daily
while sipping first morning tea?

Did she have an inclining
as she dropped a letter in the post,
stopped to chat with an old friend,
then hurried home from the shops
to get out of the rain?

And later,
returning from Judo,
as she gave into sudden malaise
and lay down on the bed,
pausing before tending to dinner,
did she know this was the end?

(I wrote this thinking of my Grandmother on her last day, and of course, contemplating my own demise.  I post it here in light of the anniversary of 9/11.  Do any of us know?  And does it matter?  Death leaves so many unanswered questions in its wake.)

 

Cedar Waxwing

A spot of red
and dash of yellow
bandana masked eyes
how you transport me
to simpler times –
childhood days
when you and I
wiled away hours
hidden deep
beneath summer
canopies – maple,
beech and willow –
listened for whispers
on the wind,
searched for treasure
on rocky creek bottom.

Years since our paths
have crossed like this,
have you returned
as reminder –
your sweetness
a blessing, now
that I only linger
at woods’ edge?

No matter the reason,
I am content
that we meet again,
my friend of old.

(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day.  Photo from personal collection.)

 

Spirit Stands Strong

Progress – seldom linear –
tosses me into unexpected decline –
stranded and incapacitated.

My son – with labour-hardened strength
leaps to my side, steadying me
and I feel the fear in his caring grip.

My daughter, ever compassionate,
reaches out for me with horror-filled eyes
as my body crumples onto the bed.

My husband, my oak, seeks to comfort
his voice betraying the helplessness
this futile predicament imposes.

Beloveds, I know that you see me
this dis-abled, non-functioning shell
weakened and sickly, lying on this bed.

Do not be deceived – that is not me –
it is only an illusion –
a vessel – temporarily fettered.

I am, in essence, beside you –
ambitions and desires intact.
Feel me there, tall and proud.

Sense the wholeness of my being
remember me for the woman I am yet to be –
My spirit stands strong.

(I first wrote this poem in August of 2015, when efforts to sit up and visit with friends caused a collapse.  I wrote it as reassurance for my family that the woman they knew was still strong.  I post here now as a reminder to myself – of how far I have come, and how strong my spirit remains.)

Self Portrait In Colours

Found an old diary –
days when I painted myself white,
prayed to angels, believed God
cared about personal forever after –
painted myself pathetic.

Took me back –
days when I painted myself pink,
altruistic heart committed to indifference,
yearned for the unrequited, sacrificed –
painted myself foolish.

Read between the lines –
days when I painted myself yellow,
so desperately co-dependent,
projected sunshine, risked it all –
painted myself delusional.

Wonder that I’d survived –
painted myself broken,
found strength, moved on,
made better choices –
painted myself indigo.

(Self Portrait in Colours originally appeared here in August of 2016.  Edited.