That strong wiry body she wore
like a curse, smiling all the while,
nature diffusing her with passion
for dun and verdant, fruit and flowers
astounding nimble fingers, eyes darting
and dancing with delight not reciprocated
in a world of humans she tried to forgive
as we communed in silence, renegotiated
until endings inserted themselves
as they will, all gardens being temporary;

And refusing to take further insult
from a species short on integrity tried
to end it, booze and pills, vomit clumped
in a long tangle of hula hair, cradled
skeleton rocking back and forth, back
and forth, rejoin the living, meet us
again on terms of this earth, let us touch
the sparkle, share wisdom and laughter
while sifting Β through mounds of harvest
heaped onto old unblemished porcelain
as we pass time reflecting on budding
cloves and sliding doors to worlds
beyond the veil.

23 thoughts on “Spritely

  1. Once again you’ve hit me, hard and heavy, making me pause and take stock of myself. Am In being the best human being I can be? Am I helping others? Am I being as self-less as possible? Am I careful not to ignore others around me? I’m trying. But now I see again some areas that still have room for improvement.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. James, I will first accept the compliment with thanks. One never knows where words will fall, and I am humbled that you allow them to penetrate and percolate. There is nothing like the unexpected desire of a friend to end her life – and the eventual success that followed – to awaken one to the senses. Earth is a strange school – the things we learn from the givens of existence seem brutal in some sense – but don’t we lock and load on them, once learned …

      Trying is all we can do, even though in hindsight one can spend an eternity in regret. And hypervigilance lends its own self destructive quality, take it from one who knows. Simple mindfulness is a quality I embrace daily. Flowing like wind over hilltops or rivers coursing along – nature always demonstrates the path of least resistance. And it is this kinship with nature that this woman and I shared on such a deep and profound level. I surely do miss her. ❀

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Wow. Your commnets are as profound and inspirational as your posts. This comment in particular deserves a space of its own on your blog page.

        And thank you for the wise words. They make me feel less inclined to beat myself up over my shortcomings and help me to see the importance of awareness over self-judgment.

        Thank you so much, my friend.

        May the loss you’ve experienced not be a vain one, no matter how brutal or senseless it may seem.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Bela, first I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend. It’s especially tragic when someone takes their own life.
    And second, as Ben wants to say, your writing is masterful. (I wouldn’t have a problem with “masterful” either.) Perfect interchange between metaphor and literal. And I especially love the last lines and the word “veil”. (That veil sometimes seems very thick but sometimes it becomes sheer and opens altogether and we find our loved ones are still with us. And they’re smiling.)
    Peace, πŸ₯€πŸ’•

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks so much, Betty. I appreciate your kind words.

      My friend tried to take her own life, it’s true – and it is this attempt that I witnessed and wrote about here. But in the end, she simply collapsed over an anniversary dinner with her husband from an aortic aneurism. Now she and I would have agreed how this went down, from an energetic perspective. She got her wish.

      Enjoy your weekend! And blessings ❀

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, tragically as I’m pretty sure how we learn here (through adversity, suffering, redemption) is significant. There were certainly times in my early life I didn’t think I’d make it to tell the tale, but I am so glad I hung in there. Life indeed is precious, and that we can make of it what we wish is something many do not quite comprehend. Viktor Frankl can be a game changer for those folks. Aloha, sweet one ❀

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Wow… this hit a nerve ending Bela.. And in my teens, had not Spirit had other ideas for me, I may well have crossed that veil. Life often travels a very thin line, it is not until you reach a low ebb you understand the cry within others.. And you realise just how precious a gift life is..
    Sending LOVE and Mega hugs Bela… xxx Sue

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, sweet Sue. I felt the same after the way I grew up also. I think it’s a miracle many of us make it past our 20’s – kids can be so maudlin, some for very good reasons. But I had good communication with the other side which stood me in good stead.

      My friend spoken of here was a wise, wise woman. But life had dealt her some cruel blows from the start, and she just had no use for it anymore. And I understood, I just wish she could have hung around for all of us a little longer.

      Aloha ❀

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, dear Renee. Indeed one can learn from every single moment. Life is full of palindrome-like synapses. We walk in, stumble back-end forward, reflect back, all in tiny miniscule bits of thought. Truly miraculous πŸ˜‰ xo

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Spritely plucked at my heartstrings πŸ™‚

    “That strong wiry body she wore, like a curse, smiling all the while…” may be anybody who’s looked at differently? The coping mechanism and the struggle either wins or loses, life either lives or dies.

    Then: “…eyes darting and dancing with delight not reciprocated in a world of humans she tried to forgive as we communed in silence…” takes my breath away. So real – penned wisely – interpreting which is easy yet complex. We all go through it, most in silence.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Aww, I’m glad. Tough stuff, losing a loved one, especially one who did so much good in a world sorely in need of it. ❀ Oh, sorry – didn’t see your entire comment until just now. Adding to these comments just now …

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes, her body issues were many, stemming from a stern Japanese father who thought her ugly and stupid. She was far from either. She had issues around aging – we all do as women in Western culture, I’m afraid. And her heart wasn’t doing so well, thus she was very thin. But strong – I defy anyone (besides me!) to have worked alongside her in her gardens – she was formidable! But she always dressed beautifully and had a magical, radiant smile.

        You have brought up a good point – isn’t this common among those who are looked at differently – sadly, I think this is true. And though many of us realize we are, at such times, the subject of another’s projection of their own self hatred, still it’s tough in a society that judges women especially on looks. We take it personally.

        As for her delight, it was genuine. But she ached that her many gifts of food and flowers and wise counsel were rarely reciprocated. She didn’t complain, not directly anyhow. Yet we had a deep understanding, ‘sister’ to ‘sister’ – which revealed much that was otherwise disguised or hidden. Her disappointment in the human race in general just couldn’t be resolved. Her answer was to give and give and give until she collapsed. And I guess that’s one way to go. I surely do miss her. Thanks for your deep reading of this offering, Mahesh. ❀


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