Imperfection

Facing death is far less difficult than facing life
     For in death we meet an end and a letting go
          But in life we meet a beginning and a taking up –
               Though in both there is, of course, a challenge.

Open Thou my mind, and heart, and lips, O Lord to hear thy words to me
     As I move on this day from death to life
          And take up once more the challenges that before me lay
               Before all this – yet now I hear and see anew.

Lord, I thought I’d understood so much before all this
     And yet, as I look back, I find my start
          And not the end of my fulfillment –
               My life just starting like it never was before.

Where to start? As if to pick and choose would spoil
     The perfectness of this clear moment of new birth
          Still un-besmirched with all the ambiguities –
              And this new world of mine – as yet unknown.

Dear Lord, where does one start?
     At birth I had that time of wait –
          Of nursing quietly in my mother’s arms
               Half freed to life yet still dependant much –
                    A place from which to wait and watch
                         The tumult of this life with all its tumbling beauty.

So where to, Lord, as I start out anew
     And face the ambiguities of this tumbling life
          Not with a pause to feed and be secured –
               Set forth like new plants in the spring and sheltered
                    Till the root is set to grow and thrive in
                         This new place for me –

But thrown into the fray of life and place
     The others figure I know all about.
          In Truth – I don’t – I’m like a
              New born babe – without supportive time and place.
                    I know the others do not understand
                        How could they comprehend – much more than I
                             When I was in their shoes – before all this –

But now – now I’ve passed through this window shade
     From death to life anew –
          And I am terrified for me – just what to do?

But then, it is just nine months now
     I’ve had to deal with all this news
          Of ‘death’s dread sting’, and ‘life beyond’ anew
               So too this change from womb of thought
                     Not held within the confines of that life
                          But now, released anew.

So – now till August – till the fifteen months are passed
     Nine gone and six before me now –
          No longer confined to restricted womb
               But still not able to move ’round a lot
                    Still carried, fed, and soaking up this life around –

That I might stabilize – a dip in weight
     Then on to solid steady gains
          ‘From strength to strength endued’
               Forth to my feet and then to walk and greet
                    The world around within their terms
                         And scams and foibles –
                              Taking on, responding,
                                   Adding mine.

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