stillpoint

musings from Canadian author Cheryl Cooke Harrington ... here there be cat

Friday, September 29, 2006

anger


What do you see, people? What do you see?
What are you thinking when you look at me?

Mom, September 2006

An angry old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try!"

Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
And forever is losing a stocking or shoe.

Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill?

Is that what you're thinking?
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes!
You're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.

I'm a small child of ten with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who love one another.

A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.

A bride at twenty, my heart gives a leap,
Remembering vows that I promised to keep

At twenty-five, I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide and provide a safe home.

A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.

At fifty once more, babies play round my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.

For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I've known.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.

I'm now an old woman and nature is cruel;
'Tis jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,
And now and again, my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life over again.

I think of the years, too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, people,
Open and see,
Not an angry old woman;
Look closer... see me!

~author unknown

Today's PhotoFriday challenge: "anger".

2 Comments:

At 7:09 pm, Anonymous Kate I said...

so very profound Cheryl...and with my father at 91 now, it's something I think of often. Thanks for posting this.

 
At 10:37 am, Blogger Carol said...

Beautiful poem and beautiful photo. Thanks for sharing these.

 

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