The day your son died, the person you were died, too.
—Mirabai Starr
Death came to her
as a blue sky day,
as a feral scream,
as an ambulance
with no need
for its siren.
Death came to her
saying, “Ma’am,
you don’t want
to see your son
this way.” Death
knew what it
was doing when
it erased everything
she’d thought
about how to meet
a day, when it scraped
her of who
she had been
and left her barren.
It was habit
that made her
brush her teeth,
routine that helped
her drive the car.
But it was life itself
that inspirited
her, slipping
like starlight
into her every
dark cell, life itself
that whispered
to her death-bent heart,
You are not done
yet with your
loving.
*
this poem has been published in ONE ART
Raw. Ad, oh, that turn. The word choice of, inspirited.
“You are not done yet with your loving.” So say we all.
Kiitos.
Inspirited–it somehow insisted on itself. love to you.
This is true. Sending more love from me.
Ah dear you, I receive it and swirl that beautiful love back to you
This Mirabai quote triggers multiple responses within the me who remains after my son’s death … good to be so triggered … and good to see your response! Again, thank you for being so open.
I am certainly changed. I sense it less death and rebirth, more as transformation, and ongoing.
Curious re source for Mirabai quote – a book you’d recommend maybe?
Hi dear Jazz, yes. It’s quite the quote–from a conversation we had yesterday. And I read her book, Caravan of No Despair and found it a generous, heart-opening book that has inspired me to believe in meeting trauma and emerging with love and an even deeper embracing of paradox and the divine. love to you, Jazz
What a title, what a last line, and oh, all that’s in the middle.
thank you, dear Laura … yeah… all of it. leaning into the truth of it
“…as a feral scream”. That line brings a bone-deep ache. Six years on and I am dropped back in time to the primal cries, and saying his name over and over and over… The “No!” of those screams, of that moment, exhaustive in its overwhelming power. I thought I could never meet another day. But the tenderness of his memory and the untethered love we shared, filled me, and I realized the only way to keep the love between us alive was to live…to remember…to honor the beautiful, sweet boy by honoring my own life and the light of him that shines within me. Holding you in tender love, Rosemerry.
Oh dear Kim, how this opens me. And that choice to honor his life by living beautifully your own–well, that’s everything. Sending you love as you continue to open and bloom. xoxo
Life ‘slipping like star light into every dark cell’ – such an uplifting image. xoxo
thank you–it feels sometimes just like that.