Just Beyond This Door
helplessness covered the walls
hovering above all who reside here
they were shells, with chalky surfaces
hair bleached white faces smooth and polished
for the disease’s relentless pounding
some were intact, others
were bent over their dinner trays
or ridged in wheelchairs,
eroded and washed up after
a long life’s journey
some have clearly been discarded
others were still very much cherished
hands clasped in the palms of loved ones
who wouldn’t let go
a few still echoed the sounds of their lives
the way an empty shell might produce
a song when the wind blows across its opening
or if brought to ear may hum
the music of the sea
the soul’s essence
no longer seen in empty eyes
Carole Mathys
November 2011
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"some have clearly been discarded
others were still very much cherished
hands clasped in the palms of loved ones
who wouldn't let go"
I'll never let go. They are all vintage gems.
Blessings,
Christine
and written with sensitivity and genuine care;
your images are perfect for theme and place.
John
the way an empty shell might produce
a song when the wind blows across its opening
or if brought to ear may hum
the music of the sea
the soul’s essence
no longer seen in empty eyes
You have walked the fine line between pain and documentary so well here, Carole - and left us with a haunting picture that is both devastating and deeply moving. And this closing metaphor that is so sensitive and visual is quite superb. My heart aches for all concerned. xx
Anna
living is much better, but more costly. Your description
is one that can be seen without ever being there...Thank you.
Always,
Deborah
Mark
"Jesus please help me", "oh Lord I need you to help me now", the frequency pleas ring out from weak, trembling voices not louder than than shadows on the walls...Carole, there is great passion and familiarity in this work...you know the circumstances and the places well... I bid you love and peace my very dear friend...Jon Michael