Twas THE Night.
Written Christmas Eve last year.
Well, perhaps not the poem you expect to read on Christmas eve but, as it is based loosely on The Night Before Christmas, I thought to share it. It’s the story of a gentle welcoming of end of life in the presence of a doula.
Twas the night before death, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse
My heart it was heavy, this sad night of the year
I hoped that the doula soon would be here;
My beloved was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of ancestors danced in his head;
With me in my grief, holding a hand in his lap
My love settling down for a long final nap,
When out on the path came footsteps heard before,
I crept swift from the bedroom and unlatched the door
Not wanting to leave my beloved for long
I feared when I got back I would find he was gone.
The moon barely visible behind the clouds of my heart
Was aware of the soul that was about to depart,
Then, what to my woeful eyes should appear,
Twas the end of life doula, and her heart so dear,
Our doula spent a few moments sensing all that was here
The anxiety, the love, the grief, the fear
Then she took my hands and invited a pause
Then said “Let’s be still, let’s be still, witness these moments with awe”
With a hug, a kind word, so soft and so pure,
I knew in a moment we were held safe, reassured.
More rapid than eagles when I phoned she came,
And she greeted, with love, my beloved by name;
Within this familial space – I felt so blessed
As together we prepared the sacred death nest,
Candles, a poem, his favourite music we played
We plumped up his pillow for his head to lay
I shared memories, told stories, sang songs that he knew
Provided moments of silence for him to explore new realms too
My doula she noticed my face it was frowning
She uttered words of support to ease me from drowning.
She kept me supplied with refreshments as needed
She checked my beloved’s wishes were heeded
My doula stepped in when I needed to sleep
A presence at bedside, a sacred vigil to keep.
In each precious moment I watched my beloved’s chest rise
As the light slowly dimmed in his tired brown eyes
His breathing now shallow, the timing slow.
Gave an intensity, a lustre for my focus to grow
As his body shut down my loves throat started to crackle
The doula she said it’s sometimes called the death rattle.
Blotchy mottling had appeared on my beloved’s skin
I can’t help but wonder of the bodily processes within
My love – his hair laid ruffled, his eyes partially closed,
His cheeks deeply sunken each side of his nose
His mouth showed wrinkles where once there were smiles
His jaw hung loose as if asleep, my heart in denial
As his physical life faded, his spiritual energy grew
This subtle glow it encompassed him soft and true
We welcomed it warmly, we knew he was frail
He was almost ready, to step through the veil.
When with a movement of his head in spite of his health,
He turned to look at me wisely, shared a moment of himself
With a twinkle in his eye and a nod of his head
He gave me to know he had nothing to dread
He spoke not a word, but closed his eyes,
And the room filled with awe that we just can’t describe,
And laying my face close to his where he lay
He gave a last sigh, and went on his way;
We stayed there bearing witness, nothing to do or say
Holding each moment tenderly ’til the new day
And as the sun began to rise on the fresh new morn
I knew a different me had just been born.
The touch of his hand, his skin cooler now
I stroked him tenderly across his brow.
In accordance with my beloved’s last wish
He stated clearly, he wanted one final kiss.
Then his spirit it rose, making ready to pass through,
He lingered for a while, then, away he flew
But I heard him whisper, ere he drifted out of sight,
I love you deeply, and I wish you goodnight.
I hope this poem touches you softly
With love ❤
Nancy 24/12/22
Art by David Yan
HELD 