Approaching the Veil
by Darlene L. Young, orig. pub in Vigor (9/98) and Irreantum Autumn 2000
I lean on tiptoe,
Taut, poised at the edge,
Eyes prickled with stars.
Spirit percolates.
I am brimming, wakening,
Fresh-whetted and ripe.
You, god-whisperers,
Hover like angel mothers,
Priestesses of light.
My lips follow yours,
Invocation and blessing,
Strange sounds of power.
A pause, and I hear
Through your reverence for the Words,
Sounds of rushing wind.
Then
Holy escorts
Midwives to the quickening
Reach, grasp, launch
I am beautiful, aflame,
Burnished bright and fierce.
Alleluia my birthcry,
I greet pentecost.
This poem copyright 2009 by Darlene L. Young. I love to share my work! Feel free to pass it around, but please make sure you copy it in its entirety and include my name. Thank you!
This was the very first poem I wrote as an adult (and therefore is my inaugural foray into writing). I can look at it now and see its flaws, but it was a good beginning for me, I think. I felt very proud of the tanka structure (several stanzas of haiku) at the time, although I know a little more about haiku now and realize it wasn’t all that appropriate. Nevertheless, it helped me make a beginning.
Though a good poem should speak for itself and suffers from too much introduction, I still want to tell you a little about this one. I tried to combine two different, powerful situations into one. One was my mother’s eagerness to get beyond the veil (well, die) after she had a beautiful near-death experience, and the other was my first experience at the temple, which was very deeply moving to me. The ladies who helped me were elderly and beautiful, and I still remember how they looked into my face as they whispered their words of holiness.
This was published in Orson Scott Card’s Vigor newsletter and later in Irreantum. Shortly after it appeared in one of those publications, I got a nice e-mail from someone I didn’t know asking if she could read it in her big meeting of temple-workers. That was really cool.
