Upon a clearing there
came a day
That stepped out and
away from the morning fog
Very early and yet,
somehow it was also very late.
When sense awoke to
find that chance skipped away with time
And created a
different horizon; a strange view
Where the scene’s edges
came so close to peril.
And now, an
understanding that death had shadowed
Closely along – stalking
after each beat; pacing each pulse; waiting
To strike at the
heart’s vessels and flows; the inevitable not far away.
The merit of pain is to
serve in blinding the mind
From trivial pursuits
and to dismiss most minor discomforts -
Lest anesthesia’s muddy
swirls no longer sway away
The reality; lest
amnesia’s power to cover; to fold away memory
Stored and sealed; to
be kept in a puzzle of black mystery.
An urgent moment of
evasion by sharp surgical blades;
Then the careful repairs
by hands of surgeons and nurses minding
The diseased
coronaries with grafted borrowed ones -
So, to mend the
broken heart.
A lost day leads to a
found morning
As dawn’s face has
the look of good fortune -
No, not a promised
one! Only a chance to hold on to waiting hands
And wish with quiet prayers
and deep love
That one lives only
in the moment for the moment
And with hope that
the corridor ahead has more distance;
Has more birds that
sing; has more flowers in Emily’s garden;
Has a simple purpose
with many challenging reasons
And forgives to
forget so to breathe and live deeply - Amend.
There is a line; a scar
that serves as an ellipse
between the assumed next
breath
And going forth, the consuming
thoughts of death.
The way seems as
uncertain as the winds next sway.
The immensity of the seas
and the skies are less about their crossing
and more their existential
presence in a wisp of this moment.
Why we got here has
lost most of its incessant questionings
And tomorrow? Well,
it is only as real as the fresco of heaven and hell
Perhaps, a triptych
of three tenses when a heart stops beating.
