By the end
all I sought
was peace,
pain dove so deep
that suffering
fused to bone.
Bone's meant to
hold up and not be
source of the final fall.
Can bones be haunted?
I was at this failure
so fundamental.
Death came
as sweet escape,
as sweet escape,
a swift descent
to the ground of all being.
From the bone poems' series, a Flash 55 for Marian at the Garden. I took the photo of a dolmen (portal tomb) in County Clare, Ireland.
Yikes. I feel like bone can be a source of a great deal of pain--I know that's not what you meant here, but this type of pain can almost be inherited, it may lie so deep in families and culture and training. Really well done, Mary. k.
ReplyDeleteThis works on multiple levels- the physical, familial and generational but I hadn't thought of it as cultural though, of course, it works on that level as well and I like it given all that 's going on lately.
DeleteBones are what carry our weight.. The sweet escape of death is really strong words here.. and those dolmen are really impressive.
ReplyDeleteThis dolmen is in Connemara but others are scattered throughout Ireland.
Deletebone's meant to hold up... that is true... it is tough when they break before their time...
ReplyDeleteOne of the many forms of pain they can bring.
Deleteoohhh. very deep. are you collecting your bones poems?
ReplyDeleteThey're all in my blog archive and I like writing from this perspective.
DeleteOh My. Wow. My bones are thickened by collecting my past, so for disease and suffering to cluster there as well makes sense. You speak truths. My spirit is lifted.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Susan, bones seem to be able to speak truths we can't.
DeletePerfect image for this...the bones speak poignantly in your poem.
ReplyDeleteThey have lots to say...
DeleteCan bones be haunted? This whole poem surely can't be about you - you are far to vibrant hand alive - but it makes me wonder how and why you wrote this poem…
ReplyDeleteThanks for your interest, Margaret. Gratefully, I'm healthy and well but this seemed to bubble up from multiple sources- my fascination lately about what bones would say if they could talk, the first anniversary of my brother's death coming up and the familial and generational effects of abuse. They coalesced in this poem.
DeleteAre bones haunted? I've often wondered the same about old trees, all that they've seen. I like your photo and the question. Good 55, Mary!
ReplyDeleteAnother fascination of mine- trees. We have an olive tree here in Abruzzo first described by the Romans under Caesar- imagine!
DeleteThat photo is amazing. It must be incredible to stand in the presence of such ancient structures. Thanks for your response to Margaret's comment. This poem did dive deep. I know so well "all I sought was peace" - the theme and journey of my life, also affected by generational addiction and abuse. Your ending is so powerful, "swift descent to the ground of all being." Wow.
ReplyDeleteThe ancient dolmens and Newgrange in Ireland are awe inspiring indeed. I watched my brother as he sought and then claimed for himself a measure of peace. He credited his 12 step program for that peace although I think death became his ultimate escape from the demons he wrestled.
ReplyDelete