Soon to Fly

 

She lies like a helpless bird
eyes closed, tiny now and frail.
Immaculate as ever
in her pristine nightie and pearl earrings.
My voice pulls her back from her dreams.

Taking her hand, she smiles
confused and hardly audible .
She knows it’s me.

Ignoring protocol i join her on her bed. 
Cradled in my arms as Jim Reeves sings
“I love you because you understand me”
My father’s favourite, the dam breaks.

Locked in that moment
For eternity…

Stroking her hair she suddenly tells me
I must eat. A mother to the last.
I am not hungry.
Then , “Its getting dark Al,
you better go home to be safe.”

She cannot see the sunlight streaming in
nor the abundant flowering cherry at the window,
 whispering of endless spring times
and seasons.
Nor the River Nairn flowing on in the distance
that speaks of the river of life and death
and our blessed part in it all.

Inwardly I pray

Angels gather round her now.
Let her see your glory before she leaves
Then…bear her up gently in your tender arms
Cossetted by love both here and there”

She’s getting ready to fly.

© stormwolf 2019
Views: 1259
critique and comments welcome.

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This is a really beautiful poem, Alison. I hope your bereavement is getting easier and I understand you’ve needed space and solitude in recent months. I’m sure you realise that what we call “Death” is actually nothing at all, nothing bad, is only a process of returning home. I have no doubt that you will ultimately be reunited with your mother. Are there any good spiritualist churches up your way? I’ve been to a few down in the south of England, and they always offer me solace. Spiritualism has been in my family for a while. We affectionately call it… Read more »

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