Unencumbered By Woe

I wrote this for a lady I was caring for as she was approaching death. Watching her daily struggle against surrender was painful but very enlightening. It isn't a poem for everyone but some might enjoy it, if they have watched a loved one grow old and fra

Unencumbered By Woe

She is getting old and brittle...
hair, teeth, thought.
brittle and ready to break;
crack open and set a spirit free to soar unencumbered by woe,
every step an effort , every thought a worry... .
more vulnerable than ever before
in a world narrowed by age and happenstance.
She is afraid of breaking;
like the ripened fruit
hanging on by an imperceptable connection
dangling there under the weight of the sun ready to fall.
just before it lets go in surrender........terror!
and it releases and is eaten.
She knows the earth is waiting to consume her bones,
the heaven's making ready a space in eternity for who she really is.
She can hear them calling now
and her mind gets caught in the twigs
between this world and the waiting, beckoning one;
listening to both, 2 seperate channels,
confuses her.
She is fighting against her own longing
(all of our longings really)
to find the place called home
without letting go of our temporary one.
She knows it is coming round a corner not too far ahead,
knows by the way life is bending her frame,weaking her resolve,
taking bits and pieces of her control over her world away...
harshly and abruptly stipping her of unnecessary baggage
for a journey meant to be taken as it as started
naked against the night of our mothers womb.
Life takes back what it loaned us
We can let go easily or hold on and wrestle one last time with Jacob's angels
...but we will lose that we might win.
All these accumulated trappings of control
are just that....trappings and masks of disguise
that life strips us of in the end,
exposing the real beauty we sought to cover with our illusions.
..trappings we thought were our friends.

Author's Note

the photo is called Hands of Time, appropriate for the poem.

Reviews

[THERISA]

Having made the ultimate decision in the removal of my dad's life support equipment, your poem speaks to the inner truth, which we don't want to know. Death is, but a passage from this realm to another, which we must all past through in our lifetime. A journey made alone. Thank you for sharing this poem with us.

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This is extraordinary. Poignant filled with wisdom ... truth ... reality and "OUR" expectations, "our" relating to humanity. This is so well thought out and your use of language is magical. You have a wonderful grasp and command of language.

[Fairwells]

I really liked that. I really liked the metaphor of a ripened fruit ready to fall to the earth and dying, being consumed by the earth. I really liked that imagery. I read it twice. Will probably read it again. It makes me think. It makes me think of what her real beauty is. I'll probably mull this over in my head for a bit. I really enjoyed it.

[Pleiades]

I love this topic as well! I find that you captured the common path that we shall all inevitably take in this realm of mortality. I find it sad how our bodies must degrade and so often the mind is still active and longing to go on. A fate of all humanity. Bravo... I liked the emotional turmoil in your poem.

[wizthom]

u are what is known in my realm as a spiritual walker,, mystic is a good name for you for in this write u journey far and wide high and deep,beyond this sphere to the borders of love..do what you do..i miss u.peace wizthom i wont more.

[April Child]

She is getting old and brittle...
hair, teeth, thought.
brittle and ready to break;
crack open and set a spirit free to soar unencumbered by woe,

These lines really touched me. Its a really nice way to see it from, I mean I just think of getting old and infirm and its frightening. When you put it like this it becomes beautiful, delicate even. Lovely piece.