As the body dissembles
the soul recovers
strength from the inner well;
the old way of falling down
into life, the ageless source
that holds the bones,
keeps the heartbeat.
The flame within each cell
alight with the knowing
disease will free
as it burns away the shell,
for the sprouting coil
to break surface and unfurl
with all the fierce beauty
of the green.
Wow, again, Don….just recovering from pneumonia so I know this soul-strengthening well……..
Triumphant, Don. That’s the word that came to me. So beautiful.
To me, this feels like a fitting description of Xavier’s passing. I felt an easing of the pain of missing him when I read this poem. Thank you, Don for your continuing work as a poet and as a man.
Thank you, Don.
I loved this Don as I do all your poetry
A healing journey, into the well and through…..thanks Don…..
Sitting with my mother in the last weeks of her life. I see in her what you have seen in this poem. Thank you
Deeply deep, Don. It speaks of hope where often there is none.
At 73 I am aware of the disassembling of the ground crew. While medical science plays “Whack-A-Mole” with diagnoses, I smile, knowing it’s all OK.
Can TOTALLY, relate, with my physical challenges of late, to these words…
the body dissembles
burns away the shell
to break surface and unfurl
with all the fierce beauty
of the green.
Thanks, Don!