On this hazy, lazy day of SunShine (Malaysia doeth not have a summer, Yes?)
Desiderata hastens back to bed after a "gruelling" week of to-and-fro, fro-and-to like the Penang-Butterworth ferry with a limited objective. This can be tiresome when the objective is to bring a project to a logical CLOSURE when the parties are "pulling if off in different directions". It reached a 99-per cent closure last night at about 9.00pm when I acted in unsion with two like-minded colleagues whom I greatly respect for their principles and consistency. (I thank Catherine and David heartily and mean to buy them a steak dinner soon for their uplifting company!)
So my morn today is "saved" from me needing to tax my thinking cap as here is another UPLIFTING post sent via email from a regular reader, Sabrina Tan (regulars must know she's based in New Zealand as a student), the text reproduced verbatim:
"My parents forwarded this to me. I thought it's such an inspiring piece
that I'd forward it to you. Enjoy!
This is a really nice poem, take the time to read it.
THIS A MUST READ. WE ARE ALL GOING TO BE THERE ONE DAY.
When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital
near Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she had nothing left of any
value.
Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions,
they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that
copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse
took her copy to Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since
appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland
Association for Mental Health.
A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem. And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this "anonymous" poem winging across the Internet:
What do you see, nurses?
What do you see?
What are you thinking
When you're looking at me?
A crabby old woman,
Not very wise,
Uncertain of habit,
With faraway eyes?
Who dribbles her food
And makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice,
"I do wish you'd try!"
Who seems not to notice
The things that you do,
And forever is losing
A stocking or shoe?
Who, resisting or not,
Lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding,
The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse,
You're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am
As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding,
As I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of ten
With a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters,
Who love one another.
A young girl of sixteen
With wings on her feet
Dreaming that soon now
A lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at twenty,
My heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows
That I promised to keep
At twenty-five now,
I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide
And a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty,
My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other
With ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons
Have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me
To see I don't mourn.
At fifty once more,
Babies play round my knee,
Again we know children,
My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me,
My husband is dead,
I look at the future,
I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing
Young of their own,
And I think of the years
And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old woman
And nature is cruel;
'Tis jest to make old age
Look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles,
Grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone
Where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass
A young girl still dwells,
And now and again,
My battered heart swells.
I remember the joys,
I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living
Life over again.
I think of the years
All too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact
That nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people,
Open and see,
Not a crabby old woman;
Look closer... see ME!!
Remember this poem when you next meet an old person who you might
brush aside without looking at the young soul within... we will all, one
day, be there, too!
SAbrina
Desiderata: THANKS SAbrina! -- and I will definitely remind myself once a while, I'll Be There one day, also the title of a song by ....., during the heydays of the BEATLES. (I'll fill in the blanks later, my memory bank runs dry ...it's momentary, I know, it's somewhere out there.)
PS: UPdate at 5.00pm. -- Yes, the group is Gerry and the Pacemakers (Filling the blanks earlier...), whose Ferry Cross the Mersey brings back much nostalgia of the "flower child" (golden?) days of the Vietnam War, rock conerts, and merci, sex and drug orgies. Sarong Party Girl is tame by standards! (I just read a discerning piece on SPG by fellow bolgger Yan at -- http://yancorner.blogspot.com -- I could not add to its poetry in persuasion! Visit and enjoy!)
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