Cycle of Life
by, 02-11-2011 at 04:59 AM (707 Views)
Some time ago I uploaded an image but worried a bit posting the story/poem which brought the image. I'm not sure if it was just too painful to share here, it isn't lines out of my life -- not exactly at any rate. More to the point it was to reach beyond my comfort zone of humour and try sadness.
The Cycle of Life -- by Aine
Earlier in the day, Maggie had ask.
If Jenny would like to go to Aunt Pat's?
Jenny running late, hadn't taken her doll.
Patty, lucky Patty wasn't with her at all.
Later a knock and then came the news.
On a train track, the car was run through.
"No one survived;" the officer said.
Even little Jenny, sadly she's dead.
In a room at the back of the home.
Sitting in a window lost and alone.
She waits for little hands that hug and love.
As she watches the raindrops which fall from above.
Gazed fixed, the backyard she spies.
A tire swing, skates and sandbox lies,
Silent and vigilant, and well out of the way,
Jenny who loved her hasn't been here today.
No more to hear about people and their acts.
Who did what, and who has a new hat.
No more tea parties with the rest of the toys.
No more tails of adventures and joys.
No more will she feel the soft warm bed.
No more night stories from books as they're read.
No more play dress up, Mom is it okay?
For the young girl, Little Jenny, had died today.
Alone she will be perhaps a few days.
Another walks in, her presence in gaze.
Reach out with a hand to hold and caress,
Through tears, she begins to straighten Patty's dress.
This wasn't the little girl so long she knew.
But Jenny's mom who is feeling deep, lost, and blue.
Carrying Patty, with deep thoughts and wishes.
Set Patty on the cabinet while doing dishes.
Begins at first to talk soft and sad.
Asking only why? Why, she must feel bad.
Why must it hurt and when will she heal?
Is this, over the years, all I will feel?
From the corner of her eye, Maggie caught a movement.
Did Patty offer a hand? No, she really couldn't.
Staring at the doll with its gaze fixed still.
If she told anyone this, they'd say she needed a pill.
Maggie kept her secret, and talked to the doll.
Morning to night without pause at all.
From this first conversation, these two would form,
A lasting tie, a torn heart made warm.
Wherever she'd go, in her purse was the doll.
New clothes she'd make for each season and all.
Years flew by like drops of rain's rage.
Gray haired and fragile, stricken with age.
Maggie out lived her friends and family but then,
There was Patty, sweet Patty friend to the end.
While out for a walk, she heard a sharp call.
She spotted a young girl, thin and quite small.
Fallin at the playground with no parents in sight.
She could see the girl was stricken with fright.
Helped Penny up with old, loving eyes.
"Let's find your parents. I'm sure they're near by"
Pulled out the doll from her purse and said;
"If you hold on to her, you'll have nothing to dread."
Both they walked until the parents were found.
Hugging their daughter as they dropped to the ground.
Then something magical happened inside.
As the older women stood with love in her eyes.
Knew it was time, her heart was now whole.
To turn loose of the past and renew the soul.
Penny's head tilted with one tear in her eye;
Slow handing the doll to Maggie near by.
Maggie leaned a bit and shook her head;
"Patty likes you, and wants to help you instead."
"If you promise to tell her of all that you do.
Of all your secrets, she'll watch over you.
Keep you from harm wherever you go.
Safe and happy while you learn, love and grow."
Maggie smiled, then turned, and walked back home.
Died in her sleep, in the big house alone.
Her funeral one family there did attend,
With little Penny holding a doll and then;
At the end of the service, with a confident stride,
Penny placed one single rose at the coffin's inside.
"This is from Patty. She said, its your best.
She hopes you will smile while you lay at rest.
Please say hi to Jenny when you get the chance.
Have fun and remember, she loved to dance.
I'll be okay here with my new little friend;
Til time for another comes around again." -- Aine 2010