Looking in the mirror, straight into my own eyes,
Dare I keep looking at myself, caught up in these toxic lies.
Who is looking back at me? How long will he be here?
Who is he, really, and why is there so much fear?
Here today but gone tomorrow, we all know that,
We are reminded about it time and again, as a matter of fact.
Who is looking back at me? How long will he be here?
Who is he, really, and when will it become clear?
Immersed in the changing, by what will be no more,
To save my soul, I must learn, to simply shut the door.
Who is looking back at me? How long will he be here?
Who is he, really, and why do I hold these things so dear?
This body and it’s relationships, though permanent we think,
Is but no more than an illusion, will vanish within a blink!
Who is looking back at me? How long will he be here?
Who is he, really, and how do I attend to what is near?
The indulgence of the body, the attachment to my and mine,
Releasing control gently, surrendering it to the divine.
Who is looking back at me? How long will he be here?
“Who is he, really?” is the ultimate question to persevere.
Editor’s note: This is a guest post from Heena Modi.
I wrote this poem when I was remembering my father. He passed away a few years ago. Perhaps it will help you understand someone else who has lost someone that they loved, will increase the compassion in you, or help you deal with your feelings about the death of a loved one.
One Day Life Changes
Fewer places to set at the table
Fewer seats taken in the car
One less person to cook for
One less person to eat with
One less person to look after
One less person to share things with
One less birthday to celebrate
One less anniversary to remember
One less parent’s day
Less future memories with them with them
No fewer memories from the
Or…
Are they still here?
Are they watching over us?
Are they helping us?
Are they holding us?
Are they giving us strength?
Are they manipulating us?
Are they fulfilling wishes which death robbed them of?
Are they finding their path to peace through us?
Are they learning the answers to questions they never dared ask?
Are they protecting us?
Will we ever know?
Will we ever see them again?
How?
Were they not a soul in a body which was simply a tool to help us SEE that soul?
The body has died.
Gone.
The soul has not.
So how do we recognise them now?
With a feeling?
A sensation?
A special energy?
A primary school teacher by day, Heena Modi writes about family, spiritual, and environmental matters at her blog.