I recently completed a writing class for individuals that have been affected by death and dying. The class was very simple yet poignant. Write and write until clarity unfolds regarding our thoughts on death. We wrote about the process of dying and the intense work and unrelenting awareness it causes us to bear.
I wanted to share a poem that emerged in one of these sessions:
I woke up.
It could have been otherwise.
I stood up on two strong legs, fed the cat and started the coffee.
It could have been otherwise.
Husband is up now, morning hug, quiet chatter,
Start the rituals of the day.
Visit those less able to function and call those who need contact.
It could have been otherwise.
Back home now from the busyness of the day.
Greetings to family, change of clothes and brushing off the day.
What to eat, what to finish, what to plan for tomorrow.
It could have been otherwise.
Outside is dark.
Change into pajamas, cat on my lap, and husband nearby, time for rest.
It could have been otherwise.
As one day I know – it will be otherwise.
Sweet poem and stark commentary on the reality.
I am grateful and happy for the way it is.
Me too..for now.