Fragments of moons past
sketch silhouettes of
a scenery divine.
A daytime reverie.
Fond memory.
A granddaughter missing you.
Do you recall, grandma?
Long ago, a grandbaby born
into an era of bitter lack,
that enriched by your presence,
comforting embrace,
renewed to an age of precious worth?
A medical student. A simple question.
“How am I supposed to go on caring?”
At the time, suggestions abound.
Work-life balance. Self-care. Hobbies.
Remembering our initial calling.
Remembering we still make a difference.
Remembering our love for medicine
and the privilege we have as caregivers.
But then the realization-
I don’t know the answer.
I only know that I have witnessed around me-
at every stage of training and practice-
evidence of emotional exhaustion.
Dissatisfaction.
Disillusionment.
Burnout.
So this is my plea…
Dedicated to all whose compassion serves as a light in this world…
Shattered
like a vessel of alabaster
rent for its salve
she is an ointment
poured forth
upon bleeding souls
and wounded flesh
a river of compassion
forged with an oath
fueled by a vision
those hands of clay
guided by light
skillfully molded
with a wisdom
paid with a price.
Tendered
is this touch that
saves and soothes
comforts and mends
strength sustained
by the pulse of
a heart constrained
by its own calling
the candle within
softened by flame
its waxen tributary
a remembrance to
the joys and sorrows
gains and losses
moments treasured
in the care for mankind.
◊
You already knew.
Gaze unflinching,
you told us to say the words.
Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis
A. L. S.
Despite sparse questions,
your eyes revealed
an understanding far deeper
than our answers-
that with one moment,
robbed were you
of the years ahead,
of memories awaiting,
of stories belonging to you.
Now lost.
Strength dissolving,
your conviction remains
unscathed.
You savor
each passing sunrise.
Each caress, each step.
For you know.
As your legs cease to support,
arms stop to comply,
you still feel
your child’s touch.
Absorbing her love.
Pretending
you don’t care the roles
have been reversed
as you yearn
to return her embrace.
As its hunger ascends,
You treasure
the remaining days.
Every word, every smile.
For you know.
Soon it
consumes your voice,
drains your visage,
until all that is left is
the silence
of a vacant mask.
Unable to reflect
your thought’s grin,
your heart’s laugh,
your soul tears
as you blink away the moisture.
As your breaths
increasingly betray you,
you are not defeated,
for the flames
of your bruised spirit
are not quenched,
and you give thanks
for the time you had,
even as your body dims
and you fade away.
•
