Monday, May 21, 2018

Mending a Mended Heart








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.









No comments:

Post a Comment