From this side of this window-
through this glass looking
down seventeen stories -
the world is a odd place.
.
The smell of rain
has become a distant memory.
Taxi cabs – thick bugs.
People- so much seed
scattered on a hard path.
.
Who would have thought
a tiny swish rising
through a stethoscope
could so change everything.
.
Here we are a congregation
Of the suspended –
Inhabitants of a sanitized purgatory -
A communion of those who wait.
.
Here the priests and prophets
wear blue scrubs
and white paper masks.
.
Why, I ask, is it that your tiny heart,
no larger than your tiny hand,
should refuse to grow?
What providence has brought us here?
What karma? There is no answer
.
so we wait.
We wait for our names to be called.
We wait.
what a beautiful reminder,
I used to stay in that place when my kids are young,
cheers.
Jingle,
Thank you. I am amazed at your faithfulness to this work of sharing yourself this way. You are an example for all of us. And much appreciated. – bill
you are sweet gentleman,
when kids are small, they get sick a lot..I feel no shame sharing it…
cheers to you.
Happy Sunday!
Feel Free to submit any poem to our potluck and enjoy some encouragements you deserve!
your support is valued.
stay blessed.
This is so emotionally gripping. You using metaphors related to a congregation, to communion, to clergy, to redemption is striking and effective. This makes me want to know what happened. I’m assuming this is written from experience and my prayers are with the child and those who love him.
Thanks. I am glad you liked it. It does come from time spent with people in Children’s hospital, waiting for results following surgery. My work brings me there. – bill
As did mine.
I too was struck by the religious symbolism mentioned in an earlier comment, and the way you used it to capture so well the hope, the prayers, the desperation of parents praying for a favorable outcome.
Thanks. I am glad that you liked the poem. – bill
Lovely write…enjoyed ti
Thanks for stopping here and taking the time to share your thoughts. Appreciated. – bill
Very beautiful and thoughtful write on this delicate and often heart wrenching subject…bkm
Thanks for your generous response. Much appreciated. – bill
Bill, there is that sense that a hospital is its own universe – separate from the day-to-day. You captured that brilliantly. Having spent time recently in The Hosptial for Sick Chidren in Toronto because of a great-nephew’s illness, I am truly grateful for those who dedicate their lives to helping others to heal.
Me too. I hope everything turned out well.
God’s peace,
Bill
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It gave me goosebumps.
Bill, I was immensely moved by this poem… children are such innocent souls that I honestly believe that they just DON’T deserve to be in hospitals and they DON’T deserve to have to go through pain of any kind… It almost seems unfair…
But then again, that’s the way it is.. and we can hope and pray that these little children find their peace and recover from their illnesses, and enjoy a long and blissful life ahead…
Life’s mysteries someday will unfold. Until then, we trust our God. Beautiful poem. Thank you for sharing. Blessings to you…
A very touching write, Bill…
I could have sworn that I commented on this, Bill. Sorry.
It is a lovely poem and touches the heart.
“The people … so much seed scattered on a hard path.” Truth.
… and we all do waiting. Wonderful, Bill. I’d like to repost it with your permission on:
intothebardo.wordpress.com/
Let me know -
jamiededes@rocketmail.com
Thanks, Bill!