By Sarah Parks – Pittman
I, Jeff Carter, was speaking with one of my patients recently and she was telling me about a friend of hers, named Sarah. My patient suffers from an extreme physical affliction. Sarah loves to write poems and loves to encourage others. My patient, who is aging and has to face an upcoming major surgery, was sharing with Sarah thoughts about aging and the loss of physical beauty. This poem was written over a weekend for my patient.
I am old enough to recognize the beauty of youth when I see it
And young enough to realize that these crow’s feet and smile lines and but a hint
Of what awaits me in the slow but certain march of time
“You’re so beautiful,” she says as she walks beside me a sister a mother a friend
Her hand resting gently on my arm
Soft skin thin and papery blue veins peeking through pulsing with life
“I didn’t appreciate beauty when it was here”
(my own beauty)
Those choice words heard but unsaid
Ah – the pain of not recognizing one’s own beauty while we are young and fresh and firm
The fear grips us as we face ourselves anew in the mirror
Day after day and year after year
Each new line and shadow
Each pucker and paunch
Gravity’s “gift” of holding us securely to her breast
As we hurtle through the void
Slowly pulling us down
Cell by cell skin to earth
Until we relinquish our bodies to her body once again
Turning – I gaze into the wizened face of the womb-one beside me
I am her. She is me in another time
Her eyes are dazzling like starlight
The brightness and power of her serene countenance
Stunning in its integrity and gentle grace
The depths of the paths she has trodden
What do we know of true beauty
When we are taught to fear old age and death from our first breath?
When we are taught to fear old age and death from our first breath?
And the superficial paint and plastic
Mold of eternal youth praised as being most high
Is pushed perpetually down our collective throats
What better way to make us doubt ourselves
And criticize each other
To blind us to our power
And the staggering truth of our gemstone hearts
Imagine
The collective force we will be
When we remember
And reflect
The jeweled lotus
That can only be revealed in time
As we unfold and unfurl
In the autumn sunlight of our lives
Dropping the ornamental petals of spring
To brandish our molten star-heart cores
Burning with beauty
~ Sarah Parks-Pittman