In his time of deepest gloom
Job wished he’d gone from womb to tomb.
Please let me die was his lament
when in pain, he started to vent.
Oh, how I wish that I could die
In agony, poor Job did cry.
Our lives, bordered by birth and death
with troubles filled, till final breath.
Whether three score, or four they be,
the time assigned to me and thee,
they’re so much like a tale that’s told
We’re scarcely born ere we are old.
The dash between the womb and tomb
is like flowers in blushing bloom.
In the morning and through the day,
what wondrous beauty they display.
Then, as the sun sets in the sky,
they wilt and fade, and then they die.
Teach us, O Lord, to count our days,
and to please you in all our ways.
May our lives, like the sun, bless,
those we encounter in the press,
and may our days, all pleasing be,
as fragrant offerings to Thee.
Foetus sprouts in Womb taking
birth as baby, grows to child
and then attains vibrant youth
meeting the challenges of life.
Obviously comes old age
being destined to sure death
Or, sudden premature end,
Deceased gets shelter in Tomb.
Last consolation is Soul :
A desirable concept
hoping reincarnation
on rolling of life - cycle.
Immortal Soul on journey :
One passage from Womb to Tomb
next to 'After Life' and then
unknown zone chosen by Soul.
supplied* with God's wealth
coconut is tree of life...
grand from womb to tomb
*Philippians 4:19 But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.
July 28, 2023
New life from womb to pass
through childhood and youth
and then with time merging
to serene seniority
or premature end at any time
facing ruthless truth.
Or inevitable death to meet
after attaining maturity !
Anyway ending in tomb.
Sense of awareness more or less
achieved at last phase,
Source is introspection !
All preserved and reserved
treasures of heart
are destined to be left
at end of journey of life.
Yet last console of soul
is the wishful realisation:
Reincarnation,
not extinction.
01/21/23
Scattered in my thoughts- untold
Share my thoughts, for you- behold
Womb-to-tomb, to death from birth
Wish all "peace" whilst here on earth
Death form crux
Span from womb to tomb.
Still shrugging.
For your sake
It's time to muse, act shrewdly.
Who can read your yarn
Written: January 08, 2022
Womb to Tomb
New life from womb to pass through childhood and youth
and then with time merging to serene seniority
or premature end at any time facing ruthless truth.
Or inevitable death to meet after attaining maturity
07/27/20
Fourth Place
***
'Four Lines' Contest by Constance La France
INEVITABLE
New life appears welcoming childhood
meeting arrogant youth merging to serene seniority
or to face abrupt end at any time.
From womb to tomb leaving obituary.c
02/27/20
Second Place
'Poe-etic Verse' Contest by charles messina
Alas, we live in an imperfect world.
We long for somewhere free from strife and pain--
Some Shangri-La or Eden whence, like Cain
When driven forth in anger, we were hurled.
And now our search is endless for some land,
Some perfect place where problems never loom
(Prosperity and bliss from womb to tomb)--
To leave this world from which perfection’s banned,
And seek Utopia (which means No Place):
Some land of joy, untouched by sorrow’s stain,
Recapturing our innocence… In vain,
For Eden hasn’t left the slightest trace.
Perhaps at last we’ll come to comprehend:
No matter where we seek it, near or far,
Right here on Earth or on the furthest star,
Our search for Shangri-La will never end.
October 2, 2019
Title #4: "A Search for Shangri-La"
Enclosed Rhyme Contest
Edward Ibeh, Sponsor
From womb to tomb we are all alone...
Merely interacting with other vessels...
We stay busy with our repetitive, mundane jobs...
We are slaves to the green paper that sustains us...
We are all ghosts in shells meandering through this few moments we have...
Trying to make sense of it all...
Trying to be civil in an uncivil world...
Maintaining massive books of laws and regulations...
The leaders keeping us safe because they care about us so much!
I watch the cows from behind the fences. Are they behind them,
or are we?
***** THE SIAMESE TWIN *****
"Womb to tomb" so is our fate
On a day with no date
Meaningless is one without its mate
Both occur once in this state
Their company; sweet sorrows
On the hands of time they are arrows
"Tomb to womb" so is our next gate
Opening to immortality estate
Meets the Judge to rate
Both our deeds and omissions of late
MY MOTHER
See her laden and brimming with the sheaves
On a hilly furrowed plane shrouded by leaves
Her way homewards she plods and heaves.
See her joggles on the spinning wheel
A textile she winds out the cotton reel
And made many hue garbs with great skill.
See her broil as she stirs the broth in the tripod;
Day by day the market and stream she trod
And fetch fire woods and make fine wares of gourd.
See her sit on a stool, behind the moon wanes;
She enacts folklores of ancient reigns,
Of men and animals, plants and bizarre planes.
See her upon her breasts life’s incubi weigh
As all her offspring upon her tender bosom lay
She cossets them from womb to tomb till she’s grey.
WOMB -
Dark and deep inside.
Suffocated and unconscious.
Soul inherits the body.
A new child is born.
In between -
Joys and griefs.
Part and parcel of life.
TOMB -
Life breathes its last.
Soul abandons the body.
Back to the eternity.
Back to dark and deep inside.
From womb to tomb
The soul-cycle continues
From tomb to womb.
Tears smudged face
Sparkles in my eyes
Fears the spanks the cane paced
The treasures she offered whole
When I was small
Shared laughter, fears and dreams
She hardly rest but beside my sick bed?
Holds herself like a sandalwood tree
A pillar, a tower which my arms could spread
When my tears shed
Now withered and shrunken hands
Still hugs me and cuddles in a curly band
Her starry eyes look deep into mine
With pretty rosy lips she smiles
Breast filled with divine love never weaned
From Womb to tomb, I lean
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