How do I know
the pill won’t seem
bitter to your tongue
through your teeth?
How do I wear
a once white coat
stained with tears
How do I compel
my pen to write
scripts to fight
a dimming light?
How do I know
which waters will flow
to unearth the strength
How do I persuade
a heart to let go
when it’s my hand
that sets you free?
How do I ensure
my smile won’t be
one of the last
that you’ll see?
How do I force
my ears to hear
a song I fear
of dusk so near?
How do I know
which waters will come
to enshroud the doubts
proclaimed by breeze,
a dance of farewell
before their queen.
Revealed by moon’s
glow in misted eyes
a wish reflected.
to be found.
Thread of secrets,
thrum of time,
silvered braids upon
before her horizon
heeds the echoed promise
of a rising sun.
Fading upon blushed flesh,
its rivulets a frame
sketched for the captive soul.
Gaze glimmering, hope dissolving,
an echo to the void of twilight’s end.
She longs to be released.
A breath divine.
An oasis to a threadbare wish
into frosted air.
Embraced by light,
she follows the seraph’s call
and is freed.
I had lunch with a homeless man.
But not just any man. An elderly man, a former high school teacher…and a former patient of mine from a charity clinic where I used to work.
It happened as I was driving through downtown, stopped at a light beneath an overpass. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice.
Since we were both hungry, we did the natural thing: we went for lunch at a nearby cafe. Despite intrigued glances from others, we had a lovely lunch. Looking back, it may have been one of the most enjoyable lunches I’ve ever had.
A few days later, I was contacted by the clinic who informed me that I had received a letter from a patient. And here I will share it with you—in a form put into verse by me but which maintains its original wording:
Dear doc, you have been so kind to me.
Why, you even took me to lunch.
I wish I could give you something in return,
but I know I don’t have much.
So I write these simple words to you
in hope that on those days
that they’ll make you smile and give you strength
and peace in many ways.
You are a doctor to many,
but an angel you have been to me,
who encouraged, cared, and healed my pain,
and a light you made me see.
I am sad that you are no longer my doc
but am glad that you are my friend.
And I hope we can keep in touch
until the very end.
So why did I share this? Because I was “challenged” by Liz to give a gift to someone. But now I realize—I don’t think I succeeded in giving anything to anyone.
Rather, the gift was given to me.
Cheer that blossomed within our hearts,
stirred by your presence at each day’s start,
yearns to wilt when you depart.
But our song will sing again, tomorrow.
The smiles that pierced through saddened guise,
the rays which conquered thundered skies,
they ache to dim neath heaven’s cries.
But the sun will rise again, tomorrow.
For many years our lives you blessed,
but the hour has come for you to rest,
to soar upon hills on golden crest.
So have no fear, tomorrow.
For on that day, I know we shall meet again.
Dedicated to Pam, in memory of Sammy ♥