of a thought unborn.
Ardent flames, its lingering kiss,
bittersweet sigh of a withering embrace.
A mind deceiving, its essence departing,
threadbare wishes abandoned within
the remains of a waning heart –
a heart entrusted to you
A cardiac arrest. A resuscitation made. A life recovered.
One patient tells me his experience.
This is his story.
Amid the chaos enclosing,
beseeched by an ambiance of ages to come,
I hear the seraph’s dulcet calls.
Immured by words
divine and bittersweet,
they sculpt the frigid air,
and I am comforted.
As flesh is pierced, poisons forced,
I am held in tender embrace–
its whispers an oasis to the fears
that boil within my breast.
A skyward calling, its promised hope
glistens the starlight above me.
Memories, regret, longings and dreams–
a cycle ripened to revolve anew
cascades within my being.
I then behold a fleeting sight–
a son, wife, a father, my life–
their love commanding,
with a strength untold
until with the sun
I am ushered
out of the grasp
of the ebbing eve.
I open my eyes.
• • •
• • •
Streams of raven clouds bend low
through a slice of crescent glow,
into guarded boughs below,
I run to your embrace.
Thickened dewdrops wet my skin
weigh upon breath’s waiting grin,
mesmerize my soul within,
I linger ‘neath your wings.
A song forlorn the sky reveals
a muted rhythmic secret sealed,
Heaven’s lament, abandoned zeal,
I kiss away your tears.
Lines, tubes, wires, chains.
Dignity stripped, cavities drained.
The metronome of your pulse above
the beeping orchestra, dissonant buzz.
Each gesture tracked, beat recorded,
breathing measured, life distorted.
Do you still feel free?
The body, its function a masterpiece to muse,
altered by poison, fluid infused.
Vesicles, vessels, organs affixed,
shrouded in blood, lymph intermixed.
Adhered in oneness by tendon and skin,
scarcely quickened by a pump grown dim.
Do you still feel strong?
Risen before the dawning sun,
a swarm of stoic white has come
to declare the status of your issues–
Liver, kidney, heart, lung, tissue.
To examine and prod, inspect then move
a person, a soul, or a number to improve?
I hope you still feel human.
Another year lost.
A heart aches
as longings permeate
hollows of regrets undying.
Heaving winds, haunted whispers,
silvering chimes of a faded song.
The glisten of a promised hope
silhouettes of a pledge divine.
A lover’s aubade, its rising sun
awakens the spirit within.
With teardrops upon her mended quills,
she spreads her silken wings.
I search amongst the trees.
Hollow voices, rusting chimes
haunt my thoughts beneath.
Shadows bared by waters of black
reveal a conscience frayed.
Silken hope, luminous,
I depart to its embrace.