The ivy doesn’t look too well and I wonder if I have
watered it too much or too little? Its
leaves are soft fading and curling. It looked healthy before as did you. I wonder
if my efforts to nurture have been in vain and that somehow I have missed the point,
the point of survival. Is survival to merely
exist or to live life to the full or to just survive whatever the cost? What worth is our history if we just die, the
memory of us diminishing across generations, words on a headstone, nothing
more.
You are frail now my love, yet I don’t understand how
a sixteen stone man can be described as frail – it just doesn’t correlate. Frail to me is a stick-thin person teetering
on the edge of life and death. Rest is rust they say as if somehow
these words of wisdom will raise you like Lazarus from your bed, strengthen
your atrophied muscles, reactivate your mind.
I feed you thickened fluids from your sip cup and you
drink with a want. I wonder if you
thirst too much or there is just never enough.
Is this your way of hanging onto life or do fluids bring comfort? You smile at me and grab at the cup sipping
on blackcurrant goo. I love you so much
you know – I will quench your thirst forever.
How the wind rages,
precipitating the storm,
winter is coming.
Anna :o]
Shared with the good folk at Poets United, hosted by the lovely
Mary - cheers Mary!
Also shared with the good folk at Real Toads, hosted by Vivian. Cheers coming to you too Vivian!
Also shared with the good folk at Real Toads, hosted by Vivian. Cheers coming to you too Vivian!
24 comments:
"Rest is rust" I would never have thought of describing, rest, with rust, however, I must say for me this really works in your writing. But what I think is clever is how your Haiku says everything, and in just 3 lines, too.
Beautiful words. I assume this is about someone very close to you. Sending (((hugs))). x
"Is survival to merely exist or to live life to the full or to just survive whatever the cost?" Sigh.. truly something to think about!
The winter of our lives is an unsettling time, yet we have no way to stave it off. It comes as it will.
This is a very poignant poem. Indeed one wonders sometimes how something / someone so healthy can change so drastically. I hear the wondering about what life is - merely survival or something richer than that. This poem makes one wonder about the quality of life, whether being co close to death is indeed just a hanging on. It makes me wonder what life is all about, what I would choose for myself. This poem shows me what love is. You have it!
My mother cling to an existence that seems to be mostly drained from smiles that could be anything, and that fluid eating...
My mother in law is totally clear in her head, but many days she seems to be looking forward to dying...
our parting is such a painful process.
A sad poem for autumn. I hope your ivy gets better...I, of the brown thumb, know the problem of nurturing the ivy, never had much luck.
A sweetly sad and loving poem. Even so ill, the joy he takes from the blackberry juice makes this a gift you give him.....that, and your standing by, your being there, and your love.
Lovely and heartbreaking.
a lovely and sad poem and yet....I love you so much you know – "I will quench your thirst forever. How the wind rages, precipitating the storm, winter is coming." these lines are worth the whole haibun. A testament to love. Beautiful.
I love this:
"as if somehow these words of wisdom will raise you like Lazarus from your bed, strengthen your atrophied muscles, reactivate your mind"
~Ali
The details … the layered ruminations ... the aching poignancy and love you have so beautifully expressed in this tenderly drawn haibun. Everything about this piece speaks to my heart.
He is so lucky to have you care for him. Life can be very cruel. He knows he is loved and I bet that helps a bit in his suffering.God bless you!
Oh that haiku is heartbreaking.. beautiful haibun!
this is a beautiful haibun.
the comparing of the care of the ivy to the person is so poignant. as if the narrator is at a loss to what to do...
Winter is coming for us all. These are heartbreakingingly brilliant musings. Hugs and blessings to you and yours.
My turn to effuse ... I've never read a haibun (right?) with such emotional power. It's like a charging freight train completed with a twisty twirly dust mote of its passing. These houses, domestic spaces, ivies, interiors, world, poems, loves we tend with love and exposed emotion -- are they only magical and wondrous in passing?
That is very tender, and beautiful.
Thank you for this. It was almost a carbon copy of the scene between my brother and his wife....in his last days. Utterly beautiful
Life can certainly change in a heartbeat - and it never does necessarily make sense; how does one understand and resolve ideas like "frailty" or "loss" or "smiles" or "want" ... and this haibun is both a keenly observed notation, but filled with the personal touches that are of the ordinary - yet they are anything but; isn't it extraordinary when we realize, often in the hardest, most critical times, how so many of our "life lessons" are standing before us, or perhaps, we are already and have been in their midst and life's natural pacing (I'm thinking of the note of the ivy fading" - and how hard it can be to understand, to try to relate or figure out what any of this means. But apart from the fierce tenderness you offer in the poem, what I really appreciate is how the voice of narration comes to just know the one truth - some things we can never truly grasp - and all we have is the now - so best to be getting on with "it" - which in this poem, is about continuing to love and care and offer all the support possible.
Very striking and powerful poem Anna.
Pat (using my other sign in name)
It's beautiful how in touch you are with the human condition, of its passage and the ensuing frailty that overcomes all — it is such a heartbreaking rumination of our passing histories and if they matter at all when they will eventually be forgotten down the line. Your beginning with the ivy and its condition and your role in it make me wonder.
This is so significant: "and that somehow I have missed the point, the point of survival".
What is the role of surviving, especially when it comes to helpless conditions of pain and suffering — is it humane to let go or keep on with the support to extend the number of breaths? It is such a difficult question.
Such a heartrending haibun — the haiku provides the much-needed certainty of what is to come and there is some peace derived from its acknowledgment. "winter is coming": Indeed. Wonderful writing, Anna. :-)
xoxo Anmol
Ah, I know this all too well! Been there, done that. The detail of the thickened liquid hit home particularly. And yet, it was somehow a kind of solace to read your heartfelt, beautiful words. I have lived to be glad of my own survival and all the good memories – though it took time to stop dwelling on those painful last ones such as you describe. Six years later I am left with the conviction that life is a great gift, and it doesn't matter if we leave a long-lasting legacy: an ordinary, loving life is enough, and indeed great riches. The journey you are on now is not easy; may you continue to navigate it with grace, moment to moment.
This is exquisite, heartbreaking writing.
This is simple to fix, you will just need to go to physical therapy for a short time until the problem is corrected. Many insurance plans will cover physical therapy, though it's always wise to give them a call first to make sure.satta king
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