Inge Haupt
Chewing CudArchive for ashes
Searching for Meaning
What do you do when you have no soul?
How do you create order from chaos and pain?
Do you flock to a cotoneaster in bloom
To find meaning amongst the masses?
A myriad of bright orange wings lured by the scent of salvation.
Here is sweet nourishment,
Here a fall of thrumming joy,
Butterflies and bees besieging the blossoms.
This is meaning in a single day:
A day of work, of industrious activity.
The sun catches a wing
And flings it gaily to another branch.
Another sweet chalice of nectar to imbibe,
But soulless remain,
Alone.
For after the dancing cascade in the air,
After the passion, the consummate joy;
After the night falls and white blossoms close,
A lone butterfly with ruby-red wings
That no longer beat with such blissful trust,
Must drift closer and closer
To the ages old truth,
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
The rich scent of loam, once more to its breast
Gathers the lonely creature,
Devoid of all breath
under wings.
Aging flesh slows and stops and is lost.
And legacies only lie in a memory
Realised in the young,
Who through chaos and pain come
To find meaning amongst the masses.
Death and Homecoming
There she stands across the grave,
The dark abyss that bears my son away.
My husband’s eyes turned from my face
For I have sown these seeds of shame.
As mourners begin to drift and disperse,
She approaches.
“You are the mother?”
I nod – again I nod! Why do I not speak?
Pale, thin fingers extend towards me,
“My name is Cassandra.”
I refuse the grasp.
“You are the one my husband went to see?”
She nods.
“I’m surprised you came.”
“Well, so few ask.
And your son, I hear he fought bravely.”
Empty platitudes. Her eyes speak more gravely.
They are full of a deep, dark sadness,
But crystal clear,
I see through the blur of my own tears.
“I’m surprised you came, but why are you here?”
“Your husband wanted me to see what I do.”
I shook my head, “No, this isn’t you.
He was one of many who are free to choose.”
She smiled.
“Do I amuse
you?”
“No, but there was no choice, but the one that leads to this grief
and that is why you let him leave.
Perhaps you can be consoled with the belief
That it was meant to be.”
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust,
Because it all must.
