The Soul's Garment, by Margaret Cavendish

Lent, Day 24

Great Nature clothes the soul, which is but thin,
With fleshly garments, which the Fates do spin;
And when these garments are grown old and bare,
With sickness torn, Death takes them off with care,
And folds them up in peace and quiet rest,
And lays them safe within an earthly chest:
Then scours them well and makes them sweet and clean,
Fit for the soul to wear those clothes again.

NOT that I'm implying in any way that my oldest is Death! Lovely to be hanging washing in the garden again - bedding ready for my sister and brother-in-law arriving tomorrow for Mum's funeral on Thursday.

The poems this week are about contemplating one's death and mortality - something that used to be considered a religious duty, especially during Lent. And seems to me we would live our lives better if we did this more.

It's comforting to think of Death as a kindly maid, who took off my Mum's flesh with care (and mine one day when it has grown old and bare) and is making it fit for her soul to wear again. As the Apostolic Creed says, "I believe...in the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting."

Amen to that!