I was there.
Weeks of waiting, watching,
wondering how you held on,
how you defied
the inevitable.
You clung to life,
her tenuous tendrils
all that kept you here.
I’ve watched the change
death brings
when so slow—
the fragile, fading
waning of vigor.
A life unnoticed—
when not a mark is made
or sound is heard,
you die alone.
But I was there.
This morning,
you let go
and fluttered to the ground
among so many others,
and I was there.
– Victoria C. Slotto
I’ve been watching the tree outside the window where I meditate. One leaf, glorious in the height of autumn caught my attention and I kept an eye on it until it dropped. For me, this is a metaphor. In my “past life,” I was in an religious order that watched with the dying 24/7. So often, the person had no one. So many lives go unnoticed. I think of this often when looking at all the leaves on a tree, or a field of sunflowers. And so it is.
© 2013, Victoria C. Slotto, All rights reserved
VICTORIA C. SLOTTO (Victoria C. Slotto, Author: Fiction, Poetry and Writing Prompts) ~ is an accomplished writer and poet. Winter is Past, published by Lucky Bat Books in 2012, is Victoria’s first novel. A second novel is in process. On Amazon and hot-off-the-press nonfiction is Beating the Odds: Support for Persons with Early Stage Dementia. Victoria’s ebooks (poetry and nonfiction) are free to Amazon Prime Members. Link HERE for Victoria’s Amazon page.
Editor’s note: Congratulations, Victoria, on that the long awaited publication of print copies of Jacaranda Rain, Collected Poems, 2012, Beautifully done.
The BeZine 
A lovely, soothing almost Zen feel to this. Could be the gift of a Basho … You! 🙂
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To bear witness, acknowledge and understand that this is the way of all of us, and for now we are here. To go unnoticed though, is the sadness, as you say. Like yourself part of my life involves care of the dying, and one of the small important things is to make sure no one in my care dies alone, we always find time to sit and be with those who have no one. Thanks for this write.
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Lovely, Victoria. Thank you.
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Beautiful poem of transition.
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Victoria, this was extraordinary. I wasn’t really thinking about poetry – no, but an experience of death. Almost like a hospice situation as though you were the nurse. There was so much peace and wisdom written into this. This was a real gift. And then the leaf … so, so, lovely. Thank you.
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So very insightful, Victoria.the opening lines made me feel that Nelson Mandela was that leaf … Such a valuable, dare I say courageous thing to do and skill to have, not least of all because we are all going to die sooner or later (excuse the slightly morbid tone). And a lovely, nay, beautiful poem.
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And funnily enough, on my duties as a Parkland Ranger today, on walkabout at Wentworth Castle Estate, my poetic head started to kick in to composing a poem, whose title will probably be “Garden Resting”. In watching the still, almost cloudless and sunny day, there were pictures everywhere of winter: a chill mist through the trees, many brown leaves on the ground, which were waiting for the gardening team to collect and recycle them for next years renewal, and an overarching feeling of their role as saviours of their hosts, the trees, which drew the winter nectar from them before the Autumn shed. Huh! Just thought I’d share that with my fellow poets here in the Bardo 😊
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Thank you so much for the kind comments. I had a weird experience in reading this. My first thought was…Jamie made a mistake; I didn’t write this. Then I recognized it. To me this says something about the writing process. It’s something that happens in spite of ourselves.
And Jamie…Basho. Oh my!
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John…I can see the influence of your work as a Parkland Ranger in your writing. What a special gift that is.
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