BOOK
Her Unknown
Thea
My mother, whom I praise
her vibrance faded
fragile flesh hung from bone
Thea had been dying for years
not in body but in heart, in mind, in soul
I praise the dim lit room where long gone souls soothingly hid to help her perish
I praise the cessation of narrow pain which burned through her frail flesh
I praise the poison induced euphoria bringing calm to chaos
I praise the end of her internal tears
I praise the end of her earthly fears
I praise the unknown for it took my mother peacefully home.
Photo By Shalita Compton ©
My mother passed in January of 2015. She was a woman of strong Christian faith, but this poem is not about her faith. It is hard for us, as humans, to grasp what we cannot see. This poem is praising what we do see. It is in no way a replacement to God or faith, but a different perspective into our human nature. Hospice provides a dim lit environment and medication administered by mouth only. This is to prevent any unnecessary pain to the patient during their last days. When a person dies of pancreatic cancer their liver or kidneys (or both) shut down causing a euphoric state due to elevated toxins. These are tangible, earthly connections we can make as humans. I am certain my mother went to heaven and that God was in that room. I am also certain she was tired of her earthly life before pancreatic cancer. Those are the issues this poem is about.
