I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

25 October 2014

That Day

The call came just after breakfast.
‘Right,’ I said, briskly, ‘I’m on my way.’
But first I called Maureen, our friend,
who always said, ‘When that time comes,
if you need me to be there with you, I will.’
I had not expected to need or want her —
her or anyone — but when the time came,
yes I did.  I’ll never know whether she had
any other plans that day. She just came.

I arrived first; it was so close to home.
I was used to popping in and out.
I had time to whisper some messages
just between him and me. I knew he could hear
though his eyes were closed, and I knew
he understood me. Perhaps he would have
even without help — very probably—
but I used direct telepathy, just to make
perfectly certain. (We Reiki Masters have ways.)

‘We’ll find you a private room,’ they said,
and did. When did Maureen arrive? About then.
Hard to remember that detail exactly, and of course
it doesn’t really matter. She arrived, kissed him
(did she? I think she did) and sat down
in the chair on the other side of the bed.
We were both calm in our demeanour.
We talked in low voices, to and about him.
I held his hand.…  And so that long, quiet day began.


31 Poems in 31 Days (Poewar / Writer's Resource Center). Prompt: Write about a real moment in your life without discussing its larger meaning.

Also submitted for Poets United's Midweek Motif: One Day in the Life of

18 comments:

  1. I like what you say here, and hear what you don't say. I know this was a sad day.

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  2. Rosemary, this poem goes STRAIGHT to my heart. How calm and dignified we are at such moments, all of our energy focused on helping our loved ones through their passages. I love the private messages, underscored by telepathy to make sure.

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  3. there is strength in silence and comfort in holding hands

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  4. Oh! Enough said to know, to guess, the day, that day .. and then yes, thatt is how it is that day ...being there for each other whether the one in bed is healing into life or into death. Bravo! And thank you.

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  5. What a hard day, but it is good that you were there and also had a friend beside you.

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    1. Indeed yes. It may sound strange, but I wouldn't have wanted to miss it.

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  6. Sometimes when you read a poem like this which echoes your own experience there is really is nothing to say, nothing to add.

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    1. Ah, and when one reads a comment like that too. Blessings.

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  7. We function from the heart at such times and this poem is deep inside that. Reminding me so much of Jean's passing when I and mum were by her in the hospital, before and at the end. It is such a profound privilege to find oneself in such a situation. A Blessing.

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  8. There is so much dignity in this piece - and the way this 'special' (and I use the word I hope respectfully) day was passed

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    1. Thank you. Your comment is both respectful and perceptive.

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  9. It is in those quiet moments so much is said...

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    1. Thank you for commenting, Leslie. I could not find your poem to return the compliment; the link led to a 'page not found' message.

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