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Word Weaver
Member

since 2011-03-06

Posts 437
California, USA

0 posted 2012-01-09 01:33 PM

"Behind the Mask"

Leaving behind the sanctified ground
with its musty grasses and dead blooms
the woman discards the gown of black
and begins to reclaim herself from the abyss.

She knows the tales the headstones tell
in the far corners of bleakest darkness
she’s seen beyond the limits
of unscathed mortal understanding
where the Dorian Gray incarnates
roam freely amongst angels in the bright of day.

Unmercifully left behind she shudders.
As the bell continues to toll.
she attacks the onslaught
layer by layer, shred by shred, until
everything is covered, hidden well.

She’s chosen her new facade carefully,
as bright as tomorrow may well be
the mask is in place and she,
refusing the comfort of eyes long dead,
or a heart numbed from aching,
vanquishes it all donning gilded gown.

With invisible shield in hand she roams
over and through the remaining dimensions of life
liberally bestowing smiles upon all
and juggling time in perfect synch.

Layer upon layer of tears now dried,
hope forever within her,
mourning becomes comfort,
the ordinary order of things.

The smiles continue, the games play on
as the days repeat in haunting echoing
she places them in a carefully cultivated,
tended with love, garden of time
knowing inevitably they will return.

And behind the mask she quietly weeps,
the salty, stinging, redemptive tears
of those who have seen beyond
and like her, stood their ground
and fought, and fought, and fought again,
and somehow,
managed to victoriously survive.

© Marcia MillerTwiford

JerryPat2
Member Laureate

since 2011-02-06

Posts 16975
South Louisiana

1 posted 2012-01-09 02:25 PM

You expertly wove many different women into one who spoke for them all. That is my take on the poem, Marcia, and it may not be what you indented, but like viewing an abstract painting, it is all in what you see, and here what you visualize as the poem is being read. I enjoyed reading about this "all" woman because through it all, no matter the masks she must don at different times, she is a stand-up fighter going the extra mile and surviving.

~*~ If they give you lined paper, write sideways. ~*~

Word Weaver
Member

since 2011-03-06

Posts 437
California, USA

2 posted 2012-01-09 02:29 PM

Everyone will read it differently. You read it as I'd hoped for. How we manage to survive it all is still the question.

ice
Member Elite

since 2003-05-17

Posts 3404
Pennsylvania

3 posted 2012-01-09 07:46 PM

I believe that the woman is Gaia, the Greek
"Earth Goddess"
We might call her Mother Earth today.

The first stanza reminds me of the power of Gaia, she may change shapes,
and forms..but she always disgards the "black gown", and is able
"to reclaim herself from the abyss."

"Unmercifully left behind she shudders.
As the bell continues to toll.
she attacks the onslaught
layer by layer, shred by shred, until
everything is covered, hidden well.

Even though modern man does not pay attention to her laws,
"she attacks the onslaught"
And hides in hidden glens,
the acorns that will grow in the cracks of freeways--
She knows that oak roots will grind the concrete to rubble.

"she places them in a carefully cultivated,
tended with love, garden of time
knowing inevitably they (the woods) will return."

And the tears she cries are for all of us
That stand our ground, and are ridiculed-
called names..
tree huggers-hippies and worse.

Those of us who fight, and fight, hopefully for the victory
of survival, for us and all on Gaias heaven.

I may be wrong, but this is what this complex, and most beautiful poem says to me.

Thank you for it, Marcia.

Margherita
Member Seraphic

since 2003-02-08

Posts 22236
Eternity

4 posted 2012-01-10 08:40 AM

quote:
With invisible shield in hand she roams
over and through the remaining dimensions of life
liberally bestowing smiles upon all
and juggling time in perfect synch.

Women cope better with loss and sorrow we say and it is true, they react and refuse to be in the grip of discomfort. Even though silent tears may never stop to flow.

Wonderful poem, dear Marcia! Deeply sensitive.

Margherita

JL
Member Ascendant

since 2004-04-01

Posts 6128
Texas, USA

5 posted 2012-01-10 07:02 PM

I think Margherita nailed it. I kinda thought along the same lines, but could not find the words.
Nice write.

JL

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul,and with all your mind. Love your neighbor as yourself.
Maranatha!

Marchmadness
Member Rara Avis

since 2007-09-16

Posts 9271
So. El Monte, California

6 posted 2012-01-10 09:47 PM

Deep sorrow must be fought and defeated every single until we lose the final battle and become someone else's sorrow. We, who have suffered deep loss, understand this poem all too well and marvel at it's truth.
Ida

tracie66
Member Elite

since 2000-01-18

Posts 4713
Australia

7 posted 2012-01-11 04:08 AM

touching, heartfelt, sensitive write - thanks so much for sharing this

~hugs~

Love is the life of the soul...
It is the harmony of the universe
— W. E. Channing

Michael

Moderator

Member Rara Avis

since 1999-08-13

Posts 7666
California

8 posted 2012-01-11 04:37 PM

I think most survivors wear a mask of sorts... they almost have to. I Enjoyed this much. Lovely imagery.

Michael

suthern

Member Seraphic

since 1999-07-29

Posts 20723
Louisiana

9 posted 2012-01-16 12:31 PM

She’s chosen her new facade carefully,
as bright as tomorrow may well be
the mask is in place and she,
refusing the comfort of eyes long dead,
or a heart numbed from aching,
vanquishes it all donning gilded gown.

I love this! The mask and the method may differ with the person, but you give up or don a mask and carry on, surviving.

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