She Took To Her Bed
She took to her bed
Waited out the wailing winds,
And reckless seas that tossed her,
In love’s empty boat
Without a compass
She floated away from the land of lovers
The shoreline retreated in the darkness
She closed her eyes
And let it go
She took to her bed when the blood flowed
To mourn what never left,
What never arrived, what never grew,
What never died, what never blossomed
And never spoke with a voice inside her
She took to her bed to pass the days, adrift,
To lay on humid sheets,
Where she watched the shadows of trees crawl across the walls
Or heard the cooing of doves outside the window
And in the space around her there grew a calm.
One day a spot opened in the bed, it said,
I am here for you.
She nestled into that spot,
Curled as a lock of hair around a child’s pinky
She escaped without apology
Accepted the solace of pillows to the cheek.
The bed remained steadfast
Restoring strength inside her
With the blanket of time tucked under her chin,
The years passed.
Later, they said of her,
She took to her bed.
.
Filed under: Blog post, poetry, Writing Tagged: | bed, poetry, She Took To Her Bed, taking to the bed, women, writing
Aww. I liked the graceful and eloquent expression and the whole vibe of the poem really. Like languid, assured steps in carpeted silence. The ending was a light soft-footed ending. Like the writer held her breath then let go.Thank you.
Thank you Iris, yes the ending is supposed to be a feather touch landing.
I wonder what that means, “she took to her bed”?
“She Took To Her Bed” is a phrase used frequently in the 19th and to a lesser extent 20th Century. If you google it, you will come up with a number of examples.
Women were often confined to their beds by their doctors when they were pregnant, or during their menses … and there are many instances of women taking to their beds for other reasons, such as the death of a husband or lover.
John and Yoko infamously conducted a “bed in” where they took to their bed on behalf of world peace.
But this poem is much more about the female experience and the notion of taking to one’s bed as a solace and comfort against the many turbulent things that happen outside the bed.
To mourn what never left, What never arrived, what never grew, What never died, what never blossomed never spoke with a voice inside her…..This is existential, what never arrives and nver grows just is there for us to discover.