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My mom passed away in 1997. She was a pastor's wife, servant of God, mom of eight, church pianist, director of the church music program, Bible teacher, and a counselor to many. Because of living in and for the church, her life was a performance. She felt she had to be perfect, set a spotless example of behavior and attitude, and never cause anyone to "stumble". (I'm sure my dad and the congregation thought so too.) Because of this I believe that she was not free, though I think she was fulfilled and truly a very happy person with a vivacious personality. Picture her in high school on stage as Jo in Little Women getting the letter in the mail when her book was published, raising the letter in triumph, glee, and a little bit of feminine tomboy Wheee! She remained that jubilant girl her entire life, almost.
After my dad died in 1995, and Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, I wrote this poem. As her mind and life slipped away, I hoped and dreamed of an opening into freedom for her, maybe in another dimension, perhaps after death. I wondered what her life would be like if she was free to fail, or to do anything she wanted?
The form of this poem is a villanelle, which starts with a tercet (a three-line stanza), the first and third lines of which establish the refrain. As these lines are repeated, their tone, meaning and intensity build through the poem. I chose this form with its fairly strict pentameter and rhyme, and its refrain (like a hymn) for this woman who had dedicated her life to God and his laws and then at the end of life, lapsed into the tormented repetitions of one who has lost her memory and mental footing. There are links below the poem to find out more about the interesting poetic form called villanelle, including some famous poems of this form.
End of Life
Villanelle to my mother, who has submitted
to the forms of others her whole life
After the applause evaporates to nothing,
years from now when dust protects the stage,
you will take a bow, your roses trailing
crooked stems, those old sonatas failing,
yet your mind will muster and engage.
After the applause evaporates to nothing,
over seats prodigiously enchanting,
frail, with bones diminished due to age,
you will take a bow, your roses trailing
thorny courses down your arms and nailing
telegrams upon your palms with rage.
After the applause evaporates, to nothing
will your face upturn, to no forbidding
voice assent, too near, the door of the cage.
You will take a bow, your roses trailing
bird-size heads, their life no longer jailing
them within their small equipage.
After the applause evaporates to nothing
you will take a bow, your roses trailing.
~ Ruth M., 1995
Listen to a podcast of this poem here.
To see how the structure of the villanelle works, go here. To read four beautiful and well known examples of villanelles by Dylan Thomas, Elizabeth Bishop, Sylvia Plath and Edward Arlington Robinson, go here. To hear Dylan Thomas recite "Do not go gentle into that good night" in his lush, melodic voice, go here.
If you write poetry, but you haven't tried writing a villanelle, it can be a gratifying challenge!
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