Little Deaths
Little Deaths
I haven’t written a blog in quite some time. I have been dealing with some physical issues, which have been distracting. I have also been in one of those fallow times when the inspiration to write just hasn’t been there.
Last week I was introduced to a marvelous poet, Chelan Harkin. Her book of poetry, Wild Grace is a mystical and deeply moving compilation of work that touched my soul. I wish that I had her way with words. Her book opened something in me, that made me want to write again. And it made me want to write poetry.
As a woman in her seventies, I am facing my own mortality. The physical losses, the little aches and pains, the effort to do things that used to be easy – all have made me aware of the limited time I have left on this earth. Today’s poem reflects the little deaths that make me so aware of the big death to come.
Little Deaths
It’s the little things that add up,
The small deaths, that when added together,
Feel like annihilation.
Each little thing chips away at who I think I am
Breaking away the masks and the illusions
Leaving me raw, but also liberated.
I don’t always have to be strong, perfect, healthy, smart or wise.
Each little death brings me closer to the shining soul that I am.
Each little death makes me more real, more alive to my essence.
So when it is time to cross over to the next stage,
I will be bare, naked as a babe,
Leaving everything behind but the real ME.
Barbara Garland
January, 2024
Comments
Barbara, you have the gift of writing! I am delighted that you are trying poetry. I love how expansive poetry is – making meaning deep and wide. As I complained today about everything taking more effort than it used to, your poem speaks to me!
Thanks so much Georgianne. I am so glad my poem spoke to you, and I will be attempting to write more poetry. I love how a few words can convey more that entire essays, and I working to make my work more concise and more meaningful at the same time.
B