“We’ve put more
effort into helping folks reach old age than into helping them enjoy it.” -
Frank A. Clark
We live in a consumer society where we are all under extreme pressure to buy and use things till we grow tired of them or until they break. And then we cast them aside to buy new ones: Improved, shiny models, with many new features. Misguidedly, we do the same to people and even more so to our elderly whom we inter in “nursing homes”, “retirement facilities” and “seniors’ retreats” where we know they will be “cared for and attended” to by “experts”.
I often visit a nursing home close by to where I live and I am always amazed by the number of elderly people that have been abandoned there, forgotten by their relatives. Even though I have no elderly relatives of mine to visit there, going and seeing some of these “forgotten people” that nobody wants any longer is both a chilling and a heart-warming experience. Some of these elderly people are so full of life and are such wonderful human beings that I am enriched by meeting them and by just sitting and listening to them. As a society we have lost so much by abandoning the extended family and opting for the nuclear family. There is so much wisdom, humour, kindness, experience and love that we miss out on…
Poets United this week has as its theme “Honouring our Elders”. My poem below:
The Winter of Discontent
The flakes of snow fall softly
And the landscape becomes pure, white.
He looks out of the window, endlessly,
His hair whiter than the snow,
His skin more furrowed
Than the distant ploughed field that is being snow-dusted
As though with icing sugar.
The cold outside prodigious,
Poor birds with fluffed up feathers
Fail to keep warm and trembling, die frozen;
His heart even colder than ice,
His eyes rheumy, with gray-blue sharp gaze
That cuts the glass of windowpanes
Letting his trapped soul roam free amongst the snowflakes.
The wind howls – or is it a lone, hungry wolf
Howling, with red embers of eyes
Staring back at him in the dark pine forest?
Retirement home: “The Pines”
Where old and toothless wolves like him
Have been discarded, and duly forgotten,
By caring offspring, whose kindness cuts like glass shards.
Night falls early outside and dark green sky
Makes of the snow an ultramarine pall
That covers frigid earth, her sleep too much like death.
He still stares out of the window
And he reminisces the long past verdant Springs,
The Summers of warmth and lush desires,
The Autumns of ripe fulfilment.
And now, as his own night weighs heavily on him,
He knows this is his last Winter of discontent,
When all alone he will pass from this final season
Into the last great mystery of the endless sleep…
They found him ice-cold the next gray morning,
The sleeping pill bottle empty by the bed
And the window wide open, letting the snow drift in.
We live in a consumer society where we are all under extreme pressure to buy and use things till we grow tired of them or until they break. And then we cast them aside to buy new ones: Improved, shiny models, with many new features. Misguidedly, we do the same to people and even more so to our elderly whom we inter in “nursing homes”, “retirement facilities” and “seniors’ retreats” where we know they will be “cared for and attended” to by “experts”.
I often visit a nursing home close by to where I live and I am always amazed by the number of elderly people that have been abandoned there, forgotten by their relatives. Even though I have no elderly relatives of mine to visit there, going and seeing some of these “forgotten people” that nobody wants any longer is both a chilling and a heart-warming experience. Some of these elderly people are so full of life and are such wonderful human beings that I am enriched by meeting them and by just sitting and listening to them. As a society we have lost so much by abandoning the extended family and opting for the nuclear family. There is so much wisdom, humour, kindness, experience and love that we miss out on…
Poets United this week has as its theme “Honouring our Elders”. My poem below:
The Winter of Discontent
The flakes of snow fall softly
And the landscape becomes pure, white.
He looks out of the window, endlessly,
His hair whiter than the snow,
His skin more furrowed
Than the distant ploughed field that is being snow-dusted
As though with icing sugar.
The cold outside prodigious,
Poor birds with fluffed up feathers
Fail to keep warm and trembling, die frozen;
His heart even colder than ice,
His eyes rheumy, with gray-blue sharp gaze
That cuts the glass of windowpanes
Letting his trapped soul roam free amongst the snowflakes.
The wind howls – or is it a lone, hungry wolf
Howling, with red embers of eyes
Staring back at him in the dark pine forest?
Retirement home: “The Pines”
Where old and toothless wolves like him
Have been discarded, and duly forgotten,
By caring offspring, whose kindness cuts like glass shards.
Night falls early outside and dark green sky
Makes of the snow an ultramarine pall
That covers frigid earth, her sleep too much like death.
He still stares out of the window
And he reminisces the long past verdant Springs,
The Summers of warmth and lush desires,
The Autumns of ripe fulfilment.
And now, as his own night weighs heavily on him,
He knows this is his last Winter of discontent,
When all alone he will pass from this final season
Into the last great mystery of the endless sleep…
They found him ice-cold the next gray morning,
The sleeping pill bottle empty by the bed
And the window wide open, letting the snow drift in.