My mother's an expert in one thing:
sending people she loves into the other world.
The little ones, the babies--these
she rocks, whispering or singing quietly. I can't say
what she did for my father;
whatever it was, I'm sure it was right.
It's the same thing, really, preparing a person
for sleep, for death. The lullabies--they all say
don't be afraid, that's how they paraphrase
the heartbeat of the mother.
So the living grow slowly calm; it's only
the dying who can't, who refuse.
The dying are like tops, like gyroscopes--
they spin so rapidly they seem to be still.
Then they fly apart: in my mother's arms,
my sister was a cloud of atoms, of particles--that's the difference.
When a child's asleep, it's still whole.
My mother's seen death; she doesn't talk about the soul's integrity.
She's held an infant, an old man, as by comparison the dark grew
solid around them, finally changing to earth.
The soul's like all matter:
why would it stay intact, stay faithful to its one form,
when it could be free?
The dying are like tops, like gyroscopes- they spin so rapidly they seem to be still.............So brilliant the wit to expose big thing within a limit of no expanse. Thanks.
An interesring poem which brings up again that age old question......what exactly is the soul?
Soul, spirit, and body are the three elements of a human being...... The soul is not immortal. Like the physical body, it dies..... The spirit returns to God....
The Creator owns the spirit! He created everything. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
My mother's seen death; she doesn't talk about the soul's integrity. She's held an infant, an old man, as by comparison the dark grew solid around them, finally changing to earth. great poem and thoughts. tony
It's the same thing, really, preparing a person for sleep, for death...... It's the same thing, really, preparing a person for sleep, for death....// excellent expression; heart touching; An extraordinary expression on death with combination of the word sleeps or Lullaby
she rocks, whispering or singing quietly. I can't say what she did for my father; whatever it was, I'm sure it was right. very good poem. tony
I am very proud, being you are my friend, your verses touch me deeply
Interesting spiritual poem- -10