A Meditation on a Young Woman Emerging

“Frailty, thy name is woman!”

Young Hamlet declared—

Only because he was son to the gullible Gertrude,

And lover of the withering Ophelia.

He wasn’t talking of women, surely,

But merely of girls.

Girls are caught up in girlish things,

Boys, battles, gossip and glitter.

But in that moment when some few of them become women . . .

Hear them roar!

Passion and purpose,

Honesty and beauty,

As the frivolities of girlhood

Are swept away, left behind.

This is not unlike

The butterfly,

Breaking free of its cocoon

And flying for the first time.

Flight can be lonely, can be frightening,

It is not for the faint of heart.

But it is a beauty to behold!

_______________________________

This humble poem is an attempt to express what I saw of a young woman as she transitioned from a volatile, insecure girl, consumed by the social roller-coaster of adolescence, into an intelligent, driven, passionate young woman eager to face the world.

Oftentimes, this transition is fraught with chaos, emotional turmoil, cruelty and confusion.  It would not be honest to suggest that she was only a victim of this, because she too could be a perpetrator.  This is neither what I will remember about her nor what I saw in her final months.

I try to see beyond the shell of things to attempt to get at reality.  Our world is so enamoured with image, that we often forget its utter lack of meaning.  Beyond the teenage façade, this young woman was a pure heart, a pure mind.  She was a young woman eager to learn—not to get grades, not to impress anyone, but to gain a deeper understanding of herself, others and the world around her.

Many students are regurgitators, keen to mirror the teacher’s views and ideas in order to please him or her, in the mostly vain attempt to garner marks.  The good student listens and absorbs a teacher’s (or author’s) ideas and uses them to reformulate their own outlook.  This is the type of student she was.

I suppose it is a pointless endeavour to wonder what she may have become had she not died so young.  I am absolutely certain she would have been successful, in many measures of the word.  She had the mind and drive to pursue a meaningful education and career.  She had the vitality, sense of humour and charm to shape a vibrant social life.  She had the loyalty, heart and commitment to create a solid marriage and family.  All of these things are not to be.

I do believe that there is a cosmic force, a beautiful energy and majesty in the universe beyond my limited understanding.   She is now and forever will be united with the universe (with God, if you will), woven into its fabric in a real and meaningful way.

To get back to the poem, she was undoubtedly making the move from girl to woman, a true joy to witness, right at the moment of her death.  Obviously, this makes her death all the more tragic, and yet it is somehow comforting to know that, however briefly, she got the chance to fly.