As 2022 turns to 2023 and I drift even closer to my dotage, it consoles me to think that when the mind finally goes it may bring an end to the many self-inflicted torments that we burden ourselves with as we contemplate a life ill-spent.
BLISS
The past will haunt you till you die
they tell you, but that is a lie.
When fuses blow, minds come unhinged:
all history is swept away
as memories, their edges singed
like ash, fly off in disarray.
Regrets, self-condemnation, guilt,
all seep away like water spilt.
Sons, daughters, sit and hold your hand,
bring photographs to jog your mind.
They simply do not understand
the bliss of leaving life behind.
I really love this poem. I’ve found it comforting when thinking of my lovely mum’s last months.
ReplyDelete