The Moirai

The dream of the old man draped in 

The remains of a black coat in tatters

With the scythe in one hand

And the hourglass in the other

With the sand disappearing quickly

Bringing him to knock forcibly on one's door

Is one of the more common accepted 

Disguise of the Angel of Death,

Also known as the grim reaper,

But for one reason or another

Black was not the colour of death

Nor was the male figure the one 

To make us a visit on that day,

It was Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos

With their loud coloured dresses

Who came in the white limousine

To take my mother away

Refusing  laughingly 

I come too on that trip. 

Lucette C. Bailliet ©

  

The undesirable guest

One day it will come

As an undesirable guest

Mostly uninvited by many

Voluntary chosen by some

On a lost quest

Unwelcome it may be 

But inevitable it is

Denying it won't change the fact 

The ultimate foe faces us

Inexorably extending its invitation 

Slowly filling the empty door frame

With its immobile opacity

Through which nothing 

Can be perceived 

From this side 

Few will resist

To its incessant call

Others will drag their last breaths

But unmovable it will stay put

Renewing relentlessly its supplication

Presenting it as an open solicitation

To come and follow with trust.

Lucette C. Bailliet ©

 

The Cemetery Visit

The weight of the dead is pulling down the living 

Or maybe it is the reverse

The weight of the living is pulling back the dead .

One way or the other it does not sound right.

The tombs surrounding us filling  the horizon 

By their sheer number overwhelmed me today.

But the way the living have divided it

Into religious denominations terrorized me.

Their god is the same so what is the need

Of ranging them into different shades?

Even in death there is no equality.

But the most horrific of all

Was the university plaque

Dedicated to the memory of children

Used in scientific research without

Their parents consent. 

It was a very disturbing and sobering sighting.

L. Bailliet©

17/05/2012

Le poids des morts tire les vivants vers l’au-delà.

Ou peut-être est-ce l'inverse ?

Le poids des vivants tire les morts dans notre monde.

D'une façon ou de l'autre cela ne résonne pas juste.

Les tombes qui nous entourent à l'horizon

Par leur nombre m'accablent aujourd'hui.

Mais la façon dont les vivants l’ont divisé

Selon les domaines religieux m’a terrorisé.

Leur dieu est le même quelle est donc la nécessité

De les organiser selon différentes créances

Même dans la mort il n'y a pas d'égalité.

Mais le plus horrible de tous

Fût  la plaque de l'université

Dédiée à la mémoire des enfants

Utilisés dans la recherche scientifique,

Sans le consentement de leurs parents.

Ce fût une observation très inquiétante

Et qui m’a donné à réfléchir.

L. Bailliet©

17/05/2012

Lilly and Rosie

                                            Lilly left us a year ago

Today was Rosie's turn.

Lilly was our trail-blazer

Always running and exploring in front of us

Coming back to urge us forward.

A bit bossy and imperious of manner.

Rosie was our herder always making sure

That everyone was accounted for

If she spotted a laggard

She would stop walking until the slacker

Had rejoined the party.

Rosie had not a bad bone in her

When Pongo, our ferret, tried to steal

From her bowl, she simply took the bowl away.

She was our little capitalist

Burying her bone and eating Lilly's.

Lilly was the most delicate one,

Asking for permission before jumping

On one's lap

While Rosie would jump directly

On the shyest of our guests

Starting licking their hands or face with enthusiasm.

Together they were fearless

Facing German Shepherds thrice their size.

Lilly would run wild and explore all the rabbits’ warrens

While Rosie would try to gather Punch and Judy,

Two sheep on the property that she terrified.

It was hilarious to see them trying

To hop after wallabies.

Working in shift in order to make sure 
That I always had one of them around
While studying
Or looking after Mim's early sleep.

For fifteen years you have shared our life

Our daily walks, pains and happiness 

We are grateful to you for bringing us

So much joy, love and companionship.

You are deeply missed

Bless you.

L.Bailliet ©

9/05/2012

The circle of life

The leaves are falling apace

Now that we are late autumn.

The birds are dying also swiftly

Now that the nights are colder.

We have also met with a dead possum

On our daily walk at the foot of a tree.

Our dear faithful companion is passing on

How much sadness there is in the cycle of life!

But on the same day in the park

Two wooded crested pigeons were

Dancing the mating game of love

How much happiness there is in the cycle of life.

What grows old must disappear

What grows new and beautiful gets in

It is a simple principle to follow

We are both precious and dispensable

If life is allowed to go its full cycle.

L. Bailliet©

8/05/2012

Les feuilles tombent dans un rythme rapide

Maintenant que nous sommes à la fin de l'automne.

Les oiseaux meurent aussi rapidement

Maintenant que les nuits sont plus froides.

Nous avons également rencontré un opossum mort

Sur notre promenade quotidienne au pied d'un arbre.

Notre chère compagnonne fidèle se meurt aussi

Quelle tristesse existe dans le cycle de la vie!

Mais le même jour dans le parc

Deux pigeons boisés huppés

Dansent le jeu de l'accouplement de l'amour

Quel bonheur existe dans le cycle de la vie !

Ce qui vieillit arrive à sa fin naturelle

Ce qui est neuf bouscule tout devant

Il s'agit d'un principe simple à suivre

Nous sommes à la fois précieux et superflus

Si la vie est autorisée à suivre son cycle complet.

L. Bailliet ©

05/08/2012