From-
Patient waiting
To-
Unconsciousness
While-
The butcher’s healing cut,
Invasive plucking,
And selective drawing,
Invades the integrity of my being
To-
Slipping and sliding in and out of awareness
And its relief and despair
To-
Existing in that numbing pain:
Pain which draws the mind in on itself,
Into self-pity and hopelessness,
Banishing the warmth of creative thought,
Others’ love, and
Ideas, dreams and hopeful images.
Then-
Begins the slow toil of recovery,The growing awareness of life’s breath.
Of hope’s victory over despair
Of faltering footsteps,
Bright-eyed attention,
And thankfulness
Which be-gets healing.
The long lane wends into the mists of tomorrow;
A long lane to somewhere
Not yet sign posted,
But not quite where I stood before.
May 2011
I really like this- very powerful.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the comment. I thought my mind was numb and empty and then these words flowed through my pen.
ReplyDelete