In the Church, I met a woman so old
Bending under the weight of years
I wonder what made her steal my attention
Was it her struggle to hold back her tears?
In spite of her frail stooping figure
She seemed to have an indomitable will
Defeating all infirmities of age, she stood
With a face though sad, yet tranquil and still
Strange enough, she recalled to me
The determined, but decrepit old man beside the pool
Whom Wordsworth had once encountered
Gathering leeches, though scarce, with a mind so resolute and cool
I watched the woman humbly prostrate
And feebly rise and straighten her aged form
Surrendering herself at the feet of God
Imploring grace for life’s little tasks to perform
In her gnarled hands, she firmly held a prayer book
With the other supporting her frail figure on a staff
And with a sigh of relief, she left the church
As if her afflictions were reduced to half
As the Congregation dispersed in all directions
She feebly walked to her accustomed haunt
At the rear side of the church was a Cemetery unkempt
Where the ancestors slept, devoid of all cares and want
Among all the tombstones in marble and granite
Erected in memory of the kindred dead
There was a newly dug up grave
That stood aloof as a heap of mud
I watched the old woman approach this spot
Where she knelt down with a calm demeanour
Her withered hands clasped together in piety
And her eyes closed in silent prayer
With a convulsive motion of her lips
She rose up and once more knelt down
As if searching for a face so dear
Whose memory she could never ever drown
Within that mound, slept her only son
Who died in his prime, a month before
Leaving his widowed mother behind
To brave the shafts stinging into the heart so sore
As Time by seconds and minutes ticked away
The bereaved mother stood up at last
And heavily yet quietly walked away
Leaving behind the one who was once her own part
*** *** **
While the wounds of the young are quickly closed and healed
And their ductile affections entwine around new passions
The aged withdraw to the silence and desolation of life
Once when deprived of the love that life no more sanctions
A very poignant and moving narration. This is the fate of very many elders in our society especially because of insensitive wielders of political power who are more concerned with filling their coffers than creating a socially caring infrastructure.
Tragedy of life: the hope and the faith can do a tremendous work to ease the grief of any kind this is the patience those keepeth keepeth Lord very nice write heart touching
Detailed, emotional, and creative...oh thanks for sharing your sight with us, so the story here_SOul
A touching poem. Well composed. Deep. There is a saying in Sanskrit, 'Puthra dukham dinE, dinE' which means the grief of a parent due to the loss of a son remains ever 10+
A touchingly and heart render depiction on an old widow has been made astutely. It a great philosophical poem so nicely executed.10
This is one of the most uplifting poem that i have ever read sad but raises the spirit to see such strength thanks Valsa
A very touching and soulful piece scripted so beautifully with wonderful words.....Valsa.....It really touched my heart ....10/10
An extremely impressive poem, the two deaths are too painful for a woman, first the death of her husband and second the death of her son. I have seen many women praying to die before these two deaths. You have proficiently described the pains of an old widow. I congratulate you for this great poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A precise series subtle observation composed with gentle care, for we can only imagine the weight that others carry, sorrows and losses. The palpable aesthetic of the 6th verse was outstanding.