Tag: cancer

The Hug.

Bitterness.
Each word, a slap.
Each consonant, piercing.
Bursting in like a winter’s storm,
you permeated into our lives.

We wanted to help you,
but we only came to fear you.
Many shook their heads in pity.
Some avoided you.
Others talked about you.

Contempt.
Each gesture, scornful.
Each insult, stinging.
My attempts to talk to you
only seemed to anger you more.

You terrified me. Yet I yearned.
To see. To know. To understand.

I knew you were frustrated.
Your disease, unforgiving.
Slowly devouring.
I knew you were discouraged.
Your body, powerless.
Slowly succumbing.

But why wouldn’t you let us care for you?…

Hope.

“My life laid before me… my treasons my troth
Wrapped with transcendence in fine sacred cloth
My breath must surrender to cold mortal brew
As wildflowers bend neath pure morning dew.

And then there were angels
Filling the sky
Lifting me upward…

And then I could fly.”

These are the words of a fellow blogger and poet.
Words that affect me more than one can know.
So I would like to use this post to thank him today
for being a glimmer in the night…and an inspirer of hope.

Because in our own way, we are all physicians.

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