- a short story in verse about life cycles, suicide/and choosing life and love (from Paperback),
'the heArt of my reVersing'.
Cherish and Wise
Fractured memories; figments of the past, act as shimmering shards of light, adrift, bubbling upon waves of darkness within our souls.
Strength of spirit is often lost and found through the process of lives longing for themselves. And the rustling fronds of coconut trees, give voice to things unseen and frigatebirds grace the Pacific skies; their flight, reminds us of where we plant our feet.
And the wise ancestors, those who had previously passed on to the spirit world, know that seeking a way out, an escape from the everyday, is wasted time. They know we will just have to journey back to the point of departure and face it all again. Cherish was sent forth into the world of flesh to begin what she had previously failed to finish. Tormented by her humanness, she lamented her loss of the spirit world.
For Cherish, the human body as the temporary home of her soul was suffocating; she yearned to roam freely with her ancestor spirits in spaces of tranquility and wisdom. For several life times she had pleaded to the Gods to let her stay amongst them, to do their bidding - but to no avail. For the Gods had discerned that her destiny was written millennia ago.
In the past by her own volition, Cherish had returned to the spirit world by taking her own life. Once she’d been an unwed, middle aged woman with leprosy. Rather than live her life as an outcast from her clan, she savagely sliced her wrists with a sharp rock. Another time, as an unhappy young woman facing an arranged marriage, she jumped off a cliff, plunging to her death. In both these lifetimes as well as in others,
Cherish gave no consideration to the people who had loved her, to those she had left behind. Instead, shedding her body in death, she’d rise above and away from earthly concerns and float freely, hovering between Earth and the Spirit Realms. On these journeys, she began by moving through walls and buildings, then gliding over crowds of people and beyond the skies and oceans.
On reaching various realms Cherish would linger, happily immersed in the goings on of the spirit world. Her loved ones, sensing her presence, gathered around quickly to commune in prayer as part of their welcoming ritual for arrivals. Once the ceremony was completed, they each took turns lightly scolding her for abandoning her destiny. However, no harsh words could dampen the joy that had washed over Cherish. Grateful for the reunion and the success of escaping her human body, she felt relief.
In these realms although reunions through suicides weren’t unusual, suicide as a way of transcending the human world was not tolerated by the Gods. For this reason there was no mystery in what ceremony would take place next. Without warning, annoyed by Cherish’s attempt to take refuge from life on Earth, the Gods would deliver Cherish back to the human world. Then once again, bothered by earthly things, Cherish would encounter deep despair as she found herself trapped in being human. Now, the Gods had decided to expose Cherish to a birthing experience, in the hope she’d learn to appreciate the miracle of life:
Startled by a deafening scream, Cherish saw a young fair skinned woman on her knees; she wore a feathered cloak around her shoulders. Beside her stood a slight, grey haired woman, with a stooped back. They were inside what appeared to be a brush hut of some kind. The older woman repeatedly told the younger woman to keep pushing. Every now and then, the young woman took quick, shallow, heavy breaths and rested her hands on her protruding belly. Although disorientated and confused by her abrupt exile from the spirit world,
Cherish soon fathomed that the young woman was about to give birth and the older woman was the midwife. As the pregnant woman’s labour intensified, Cherish spoke words of encouragement to her that neither woman appeared to hear. As Cherish reached out to rub the back of the kneeling pregnant woman, the woman vanished. Suddenly Cherish was experiencing excruciating abdominal pains. It was then that she realised her twist of fate. She was kneeling. She was now the pregnant woman about to bring a child into the world! Terror spread over her.
How could she be made responsible for another life on her worldly journeys? This had not happened to her before! When she couldn’t cope with being part of the human race she would simply enact her own death and be glad to get back to the comfort of the spirit world, even if her stay there was short. Having a baby to nurture would only make a difficult existence more complicated. Repeatedly the Gods had warned Cherish that if she kept refusing her full human experience, they would have to take steps to ensure that she completed her human cycle.
When the labour pains were no longer spaced apart and Cherish’s groans had turned into angry forced grunts, the midwife removed the feathered cloak from Cherish’s shoulders. Using it as a blanket she placed it on the dirt floor of the hut. She then helped Cherish onto the blanket and guided her to crouch on her hands and knees. As soon as Cherish assumed this birth position, and the midwife turned to wash her hands in a bowl of warm water, a baby’s head appeared between Cherish’s legs. Without time to dry her hands, the midwife rushed forward and caught the wrinkled, fluid soaked
baby, as it slid out of its mother. As the midwife passed the baby boy to Cherish, glistening shades of light from Waana, the God of Endurance, filled the room. Waana had brought hundreds of spirits to witness the birth. They chattered excitedly and marvelled over the old soul the baby had inherited. In unison, they began softly chanting birth songs while waiting patiently for the midwife to cut the umbilical cord. The midwife however, remained oblivious to the presence of the others in the room. Intuitively, Cherish sensed the spirits gathered around her and cried sadly.
She knew that the cutting of the umbilical cord also meant the severing of the astral cord, which was the thread that led back to the spirit world. The midwife interpreted Cherish’s weeping as merely an emotional release after giving birth. As the new boy lay in Cherish’s arms the chanting became louder. The pitch grew sharp and shrill until the sound was so piercing Cherish thought her eardrums would burst. As the razor sharp blade sliced the umbilical cord, the crowd of spirits from the other world evaporated.The room went still and silent and a great nothingness filled the space.
Alone, panicked by the human predicament in which she was trapped, Cherish cried out to the Gods to have compassion on her soul. She pleaded with Waana to respond to her request to be freed from her fleshly captivity. A tingling sensation on the side of her face interrupted her hysteria. Had someone or something slapped her? Confused she gazed down at the infant. The newborn was glaring at her and as she focused her eyes on his gaze, she saw in his eyes the crowd of spirits that had previously filled the room. She caught glimpses of her many worlds and her previous lifetimes and she saw
her future and understood the only way back to the Spirit Realm was through raising this baby in a way that would please the Gods. She needed to demonstrate that she understood and accepted the opportunity to find true meaning in her life. As she looked at her son she wondered… Mother and child, who gave birth to whom? Their lives were inextricably bonded. Who would be the nurturer; who, the nurtured? Their destinies were sealed, interwoven and mapped out. She knew instinctively this new flesh, this new life, marked the rebirth of an ancient soul.
She knew her baby held the Spirit of Wise, thus he would carry the name. She would call him Wise. Cradling Wise, she studied his wrinkles and folds. His tiny right hand was clenched tight, suggesting he held a treasure. As Cherish gently massaged his fist open, she saw Wise had carried a tiny pear shaped pod containing seeds from the spirit world. Cherish realised that Mullaani, the Earthmother and Guardian of Nature, must have given the pod of seeds to this child. As a potent, sweet, alluring perfume laced the air, she recognised the aroma as the scent of the frangipani flower.
Being of Supreme Divinity, Mullaani was a member of the Great Council of the Spirit Realm which discussed the growth and development of individuals. Wise himself, had long been an adviser in the spirit world, and he’d always had a serious attitude towards himself and others. The Council had previously expressed concern about Wise’s growth. It felt that his serious nature was choking the energy from his aura. It was thought that to fix this problem he might be born on Earth and hence learn childlike qualities of innocence, hope and excitement. He might learn to laugh and feel safe in his laughter.
The Council reasoned that if he loosened up, relaxed a little and learnt another way of being, it would benefit Wise and those he advised.
Wise was devastated by the Council’s decision, but since he was an obedient soul he accepted their judgment. Shortly before he embarked on his journey to be born, he experienced severe bouts of ambivalence and insecurity. He visited Mullaani and asked her for a source of strength to help endure his shift into the earthly world. Mullaani reached into her heart and drew out a seed pod. She told him the seed pod would bring him protection and
enlightenment. As she spoke a storm broke out and the atmosphere around them changed colours. Greens and blues melted and merged into varied shades of oranges and browns. The shades of light expressing Wise in his spiritual form, began to absorb the atmospheric colours, as a blank canvass soaks up paint from the artist’s brush. Mullaani smiled as hundreds of images of Wise at various stages of manhood flashed then slowed to a halt before her. Wise extended his translucent arms in front of himself and slowly turned the palms of his luminous hands upward.
Mullaani thought this gesture meant he was ready to accept the pod of seeds and placed it in his open right palm. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind burst around them threatening to scatter his potential bounty. Instinctively Wise closed his hands. It was with that action he felt himself being sucked into a tunnel of light. Drawn out of the spirit kingdom, he knew he had commenced his journey to the land. He experienced himself falling, dropping,
voyaging deeply toward the other world.
A slow pulsating drum rhythm vibrated and scattered its haunting beats around him. A muffled high-pitched monotone chant simultaneously occupied the space within and outside his existence. Engulfed by an infinity of red fluid, wetness and moisture covered him. Disoriented and bewildered, Wise realised that he’d stopped falling and was now floating through a tunnel of colours. Black, red, black, purple then pink that fused into red and then to black. In the distance, a bright light glowed and he was being propelled toward it.
Startled by a loud shriek, Wise squeezed out into the light. Familiar voices chanted around him. Dazed, he struggled to see what he was hearing. Waana, the God of Endurance, smiled before him and Wise felt relieved to see the multitude of jubilant spirits drifting freely above him. Instinctively he attempted to rise and join them but realised he was now a baby boy. The cold, sharp sensation of inhaling oxygen into his lungs reminded Wise of the human need to breathe. He relaxed and allowed the powerful force transmitted from the chanting spirits to flow through him into his blood and
bones. As the midwife sliced the umbilical cord, the Great Spirits danced into baby Wise’s distant memory, endeavouring to leave traces of the spirit world in him, to help him get through his human life. On the first night after Cherish had given birth Vinata, the Goddess of Ritual, spoke to Cherish through her dreams. Vinata suggested that she perform small ceremonies that would please the Supreme Ones and gave detailed instructions on how this could be done. Now, the atmosphere around their home on the edge of a rainforest was gloomy and heavy, because even when the sun shone
brightly a grey, smoky mist lingered. The haze was of Cherish’s making.
It was the accumulation of negative feelings she had accrued from previous life journeys by throwing her life away carelessly. As she acknowledged its bleakness, she also grew grateful for this opportunity to nurture Wise and fulfil her human obligations. Vinata explained to her that only when this dark cloud of misery had finally dissipated, would their two exiled souls be welcomed back into the realms of the ethereal.
On the rising of the seventh moon after the birth, Cherish followed Vinata’s instructions and wrapped the baby’s dried umbilical cord and the seed pod together inside a piece of dried taro leaf, making a tiny parcel. She then fastened the tiny parcel onto an intricately woven rope made from dried flax; making an amulet to wear around her neck. Then she took Wise outside and held him up to the sky. As if praying she sang songs towards the heavens. She was trying to communicate to the Supreme Gods that she would try her hardest to learn to love and respect life on Earth. She wanted them to know
that she would take responsibility for baby Wise. Cherish talked, chanted and cried to the heavens waiting for some sort of sign that she could be understood. One calm night a full-faced moon was radiantly bright and slowly drifted nearer to them, until it rested immediately above them. Cherish watched as a milky halo circled the moon and a golden mist spread throughout the sky. A shimmering moon ray shone down like a flood light onto the ground not far from where Cherish stood. She moved towards the ray but stopped at the opening of a huge cavity in the earth. She peered
into the cavern and saw a fire of many colours blazing. There amongst the raging flames, she saw herself in her many previous forms. Sweetened voices rose unbidden from the great pit, beckoning Cherish to free herself of life. They called to her to come and enjoy the mystery of darkness. The voices urged Cherish to throw baby Wise down to them so they could raise him as a spirit of the Underworld. They said if Wise lived with them, he would be able to remain serious in character, and that he wouldn’t have to learn to laugh or be happy, because their world did not make such
undesirable demands on their free spirited residents. Spirits who descended to the realms of darkness were able to roam around without any sort of accountability to one another. The vile voices gloated that they didn’t have to adhere to rules or regulations in the Underworld. Each individual entity looked out for themselves. It was a constant celebration of chaos, where any outcome was just. Above in the Spirit Realm Waana, Mullaani and Vinata anxiously watched and waited, unable to feel sure that Cherish would favour staying in the human world. Although they were aware there were risks
involved when they’d sent Wise, they hadn’t foreseen that he’d be exposed to the dangerous allure of the deep pit. Cherish glared into the pit. Layer upon layer of voices whispered, called, crooned and cajoled sweetly for the delivery of baby Wise to the Underworld. In a hypnotic trance, Cherish stepped closer to the edge of the pit. Soil crumbled under her feet. She held Wise tightly. More soil slipped into the pit. She loosened her hold on Wise. Suddenly, with an almighty shriek and great force, Cherish ripped off the amulet made of Wise’s umbilical cord and the seed pod and hurled itinto the cavern.
At that very moment the moon ray that shone from above, transformed into a waterfall and clear water gushed into the pit, extinguishing the flames and washing away the Underworld inhabitants towards oblivion. A gust of cold wind hissed and seethed around her. Terrified by the cosmic shifts going on about her, she stepped back from the pit and fell to the ground, cradling Wise to her chest she curled her body up into a ball. She prayed to Waana to save her from the terror that surrounded her, until she became so overwhelmed with fear that she fainted.
The crow of a rooster signalled a new day and sounded like a triumph call when it woke Cherish. A warm gentle breeze brushed over her body. She felt a dull ache in her breasts. Milk dripped from her nipples; a sign that the infant was due to be fed. Baby Wise lay next to her, sucking his fingers in an attempt to satisfy his growing hunger. The morning air was fresh and a potent scent of frangipani laced the air. As Cherish sat up to greet the morning, she was astounded
by the enchanting environment that surrounded her.
In full bloom, standing tall and strong in the space that had been the entrance to the Underworld was a magnificent frangipani tree. It had smooth edged leaves on fleshy branches shaped like hands that reached for the sky. Hundreds of stunning pink and yellow flowers decorated its branches and covered the smooth earth around her. The brilliance and warmth it exuded told every Earth creature that the tree had been waiting forever to exist. Insects scrambled over the leaves and trunk, while birds busily build their nests amid branches.
Cherish observed the harmonious connections that flowed easily from the life forms around her. She admired the angelic beauty and innocence of baby Wise, and offered up prayers of thanks to the Gods for the miracle of life. As she looked into the gaze of baby Wise, she glimpsed the future and was glad to finally understand that suicide was no option. Her humanness had finally led her to appreciate the rarity and sacredness of life on Earth.
As Cherish drew Wise to her breast to feed, she watched in wonder as the grey, smoky mist that had hovered around her homeland dissolved. She was glad she could now love her life and the essence of her name Cherish. With that realisation, the immense greatness of life filled the air.
Copyright(c) Lili Tuwai 2007
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Reviewed by Tania Taylor
11/19/2007
Ohh - What a lovely ending! Mother and child, safe in each others love! Well done. I also enjoyed your other short story. Both gave me much to think about. I look forward to reading more.
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