Where are we?

'Dont you ever feel lost?', an old man asked his wife, as they lay in their beds one cold dark night. 'But of course not, now I lay here with you', she replied.

How many years they'd lain together, and parented, full of pain and delight? Never thinking past the necessities until the moment one of them died.

The ancient scissors snipped the cord of life - an umbilical tube connected to the realm of life, and edge-of-the-seat pre-eternal existence.

The life squeezed out, til the body just crumbles to the floor through the hands of the wife, all panicked grief and superstitious insistance.

'It cannot be', she cries, 'why couldnt it be me?' and she screams her anger at a power she cant percieve, and no longer deny.

'That's what some had called a 'cross to bear'', she supposed she had to agree, but on what then is there left for her to rely?

She hadn't thought about herself in all that time, even in grief giving her all to the children she felt it was her reason to serve as a mother.

But little thanks they gave, being just as dazed and unseeing and focussed on self. Unquestioning, and meandering as any other.

There's nothing so terrible than when the mother who gives her all is shunned by those she loves more than she ever thought could be true.

And it drives her to ruin, and terminal unappreciation, and ill-health. And a prodigal son's unfeasible, cos he doesnt have a clue.

He drove her to her own grave, in his selfishly indulgent infatuation, and ingratitude. The terminal disease of individualisation.

No cross-bearing revolutionary slave, or simple human platitudes. Only 'Me, me, me', and a barcode of the faceless generation.

But deep down in the darkness, of a cruel heart, stirred beauty, and love and that umbilicular, natural light of the gestational bond.

It couldnt be buried along with all that influence of chemicals and material unreality, so true love isnt dead and gone.

Then the eyes and hearts are brought alive by the Light, they turn back to their source, the Almighty One at the beginning and never having an end.

Glorify to Whom it is due, and the links of love come real and back to where they should be, and God is the Only true protecting friend.

Then to Him we belong, and to Him we return, after to dust we have been interned. So the husband's question can finally be replied.

The Truth deserves more than to be just ignored, now it is the Truth we have learned. Family submit together and together we lie.