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With downcast eyes
I sit aside your still form,
Fold back the shroud,
And gaze upon your grayish face.
Fingering flint and iron atop your pyre,
I ponder piety,
Assured by sharing your afterlife.
Else wise, we are parted forever.
I lift my eyes
And rest them on our daughters and our sons--
The younger clinging to the older--
The older staring stone-faced.
Fingering flint and iron atop your pyre,
I wrestle with certain shame,
Assured by shunning such devotion.
Else wise, we are parted forever.
With shuttered eyes
I remember a man,
Strange of speech,
Pale of face.
Fingering flint and iron atop your pyre,
I finally fathom faith you professed
In one whose sacrifice assures salvation.
Else wise, we are parted forever.
Uplifted eyes
View heavens anew.
The shroud replaced,
I look to Christ.
Flicking flint and iron atop your pyre,
Flames consume your shell
As I return to sons and daughters with good news.
Else wise, we are parted forever.
**********
Author's note:
The practice of sati, (or suttee,) a widow sacrificing herself on her husband's funeral pyre, has been outlawed in India for nearly 200 years, but isolated occurrences are still reported.
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