Thin now, thinner than last week, growing weaker.
Arms like bamboo.
Face gaunt, veined, hollow eyed.
Haunted eyes that follow vague ghosts
Medically all is well, apparently. ...
Unable to walk without aid.
Eats little, drinks less, sleeps a lot.
Drifting somewhere between the flickering of her eyelids and the memories of dad, of me as a child.
When she wakes she smiles seeing me the boy I was.
No longer the man but the son on whom she doted,
All my perceived crimes forgiven.
It is the passing of days.
It is right and proper.
All things must pass but must the passing be so painful for those watching?
Let her have peace.
Let her drift into dreamless sleep.
Rather than this human life unceremoniously dispatched.
Let her drift into dreamless sleep.
Rather than this human life unceremoniously dispatched.
6 comments:
Good poem. It's a sad time. I find myself writing more and more poems now about death and illness.
I saw Maggie Smith's closing lines in 'The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.' I found all performances very good, Penelope Wilton's face, when Judi Dench reveals that the lover she had said she has is pure invention, expressed more emotion than a thousand words. But Maggie had me close to tears as she says goodbye. I felt as though here I am watching a woman whose acting defies all superlatives warning us of her mortality. I felt a sense of sheer terror at the thought of not being able to see a new performance from such a gifted and well loved actress. Seeing mum day in day out is the same. I must be getting old.
people will talk about what is or is not "art", or about how "good" or "bad" is a particular artwork or artistic creation. Such discussions are invariably based on subjective judgements. But are there any objective yardsticks with which to assess art? For me, an essential criterion is authenticity. Authenticity of experience, perception, emotion and expression. "Mum" certainly more than satisfies those criteria. Thanks for sharing your deepest thoughts and feelings.
masterymystery>>>You are right, we all are creative. Some of us though have commercial appeal. That is the only difference.
So sad, so beautiful, so true!
Thanks Elena.
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