Maeve

Usually, after I do a random song lyric sonnet, I like to scan it over, and try to imagine (if it were a real poem) what the poet is like, and what was running through their mind when they wrote it.

So I think I'll give it a shot, right now.

The poet of Leave is an old woman. She's probably in her very late eighties, or very early nineties.

Let's call her Maeve *. I've always liked that name.

She is an incredibly strong willed person. Her parents were immigrants from Poland who worked very hard for everything they had. But they adored Maeve and her brothers. They were an extremely happy family. She grew up with two older brothers. She very quickly learned to stand up for herself, at a very early age. She wasn't a tomboy, exactly, but she wasn't afraid to roll up her sleeves and get mucky.

Her father called her his little wolney duch. It's Polish for free spirit.

When she grew up, she married young. She also divorced young...which is something that was frowned upon at the time. But Maeve didn't care. She craved her freedom.

After the divorce, she left her city and traveled. She went pretty much around the world. She saw and did incredible things. She had many lovers, but only one real true love. When she returned home, she became a teacher.

She had tons of friends, and many, many adopted nieces and nephews. She loved to write letters, and kept in touch with a lot of people that she met when she was overseas.

Now, she's at the end of her life. She's lost count of the number of friends who have died before she has. Her eyesight is starting to fade, and it's difficult for her to write for long periods, anymore.

She wrote Leave a few days after yet another funeral. It's her looking back on her life, and looking forward to her end. It's not that she wants to die, necessarily. She can just feel it's approach, and considers it another adventure.

It's kind of a good bye letter.

In the first line, she's thinking about what an incredible life she's had. She wasn't afraid to give attitude to those who condemned her choices. She never backed down from a fight. In her old age, she embraced being a bit dotty. She often relives her misbehavior in her memories, and feels sorry for those who live them only in their dreams. She doesn't want her loved ones to mourn her, after she's passed. And they're welcome to her belongings once she's gone.

The second verse is about being old in general. She always felt that the aging process is treated rather morbidly. The way she heard others talking about being infirm gave her the chills and put “thorns in her mind”. It seemed to her that people talked about getting old as if they were falling apart, melting, or fading away. She never understood this. To her, it was a natural process of life...like “steam from a cup”. She isn't afraid of getting her feet wet from snow on the path.

In the third verse, she's praying that she can face her death with grace...even dancing. She's secretly afraid that she'll die with her eye's open (a pair of glassy eyes), but she is thrilled with the life that she had, and the memories she will take with her. She wishes she could share it with the whole world, somehow.

At the end, she acknowledges that she will be exiting the physical plane and leaving her body behind. But she is not afraid of the walking down Death's darkened corridor.

What a wonderful, brave woman she is.

Oh Maeve...I wish you were real. And that I could have known you.



Jim Out.


* It is actually a custom in Poland for parents to give their children foreign sounding names, so a Polish girl named Maeve isn't really all that inaccurate.