Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Of frail hearts
The doctors say they couldn't find the cause
of flooding in your lungs. With each inhalation,
a rippling pain crosses your gaunt face.
You ask for the priest to give you
Last Rites. There is no rancor nor rage in
your words. Your neck bows in graceful acceptance.
Of storms. Of changing winds.
Your husband weeps, his own frail heart stitched
years earlier, a child now, drowning in fears -
I turn clock inside out
I am filling the empty spaces
I am rebuilding the walls & roof
I am hanging up family pictures
I am wearing the rings & brooch of grandma
I am telling the butterflies to wait, please wait-
But your face is serene on hospital bed
ribs punctured with tubes, fingers needled with wires,
and from your tongue
praises of His Words, His Exalted Name-
Our hands touch, drawing strength from each other
River into sea, sea into river
Outside, tropical sun glints hard orange orb
This began with root of your frail heart
But now I learned that yours
is always steel, uncommon fire-
We exchanged gifts that day:
yours, art of breathing more gratitude-
mine, lesson in becoming less fearful
of darkness -
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visit ~
This happened more than 2 years ago with my mom, but she survived and is doing well ~ The gift of life is a precious lesson for me.