Broken Womb, Shattered Soul: Living with Infertility (part 3)

By Barbara Leonhard | Featured Contributor


[Click for Part 1 and Part 2]

The bandage torn
From new flesh
Releases wails
The wound still
Imbibes air
The scab hides
deep repair
Let it rest. Wait
In time the scar
Records a fate

I learned that healing is a deep process. We may heal a physical wound, but to become whole, we need to heal emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. We need to dig into the old grout of our deep being. Moreover, we must trust help is available.

Continue reading “Broken Womb, Shattered Soul: Living with Infertility (part 3)”

Keeping the Faith

By Pam Kimmell | Featured Blogger


The road that we each travel
Is full of twists and turns
There are detours and temptations
Lessons each of us must learn.

If life was always perfect
And we never faced the bad
We’d have no real reflection
Of the happy times we’ve had.

Adversity brings the challenge
Of working towards new goals
Finding new solutions
Is balm for weary souls.

God never gives us more to handle
Than he knows we can take on
Remember following the darkest times
God provides a bright new dawn.

Continue reading “Keeping the Faith”

The Beauty We Miss

Stop and smell the roses,
Smell that sweet aroma,
Admire the dew
on each crimson petal,
Simple pleasures
to let sink in and settle.

The beauty that you miss,
can truly be bliss.

Wake up to a gallery
of wonders every morning,
Marvel in every little detail,
it is ever so revitalizing,
In this busy world which we live,
we must remember one thing,

Slow down…life is for savoring.

Duncan Hookey

Thank you, Duncan, for this beautifully penned, timely reminder.

Wishing everyone a lovely day.

🌷

Just a Man

By Colin Chappell | Featured Author


He listened;
He understood;
He befriended;
He cared.

All the courage he gave me,
By just being there,
Made me feel like
I wanted to live.
He gave me so much
Yet… had so little to give…
But his time.

I realized later
There was so much more.
I was indebted to that man
And… what’s more,
To experience the caring
of someone unknown

made me wonder.
Who else was out there alone?

Continue reading “Just a Man”

Spinal Con-fusion: A Poem by a Survivor

By John Gregory Evans | Featured Author


There remains
a deadened,
freezing,
almost an anesthetizing
sense of dread
upon my fingertips and hands,
reaching deep into my leg’s nerves,
shattered spinal cord,
peeled away
as one peels an orange.

Walking,
now a challenge,
con-fusion of the fusion,
cervical cord,
Ruptured and bruised,
arrogance of the humanity factor.

Pain
within the eyes
like lightning fingers
to the crown
of God.

Continue reading “Spinal Con-fusion: A Poem by a Survivor”

Respite from a Pandemic

By Cynthia Cady Stanton | Featured Author


When in isolation,
and the feeling overwhelms,
remember the love within you.
Look to your heart
and the fullness there,
the fullness that swells
with your sweet attention to it.

You are not alone.

You are the branch
which stretches and shades
from every tree you have sat under.
You are the sea spray
that has kissed your face
from every stroll on the beach.
You are the joy
of your beloved pet
who always blesses you
with pure affection.
You are the song
that the morning bird sings.
You are even the touch
of every hand held
and every embrace shared.

Continue reading “Respite from a Pandemic”

Get Your Poetry Featured on PhoebeMD!

Do you write poetry and have an encouraging or uplifting poem to share? Would you like to inspire the PhoebeMD community while broadening your own blog readership?

If so, I welcome you to submit your poem to be considered for publication.

Continue reading “Get Your Poetry Featured on PhoebeMD!”

Fire & Ice: The Faces of Grief

By Barbara Leonhard, Featured Contributor


Robert Frost once wrote:

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Online, one can find many poets who sing about their grief. In this lyrical piece, Frost tells us that we face changes all the time. Eden, our paradise, has been lost. Life is temporary, terminal, and short lived. The sun both rises and falls; the seasons change, and we grieve.

Continue reading “Fire & Ice: The Faces of Grief”

A Bitter Thanksgiving.

Many of you may recall having read these lines from past Thanksgivings; it is a retelling of a visit I had with one of my patients during this time of year—a woman whose life and struggles were unlike mine in many ways, but who nevertheless taught me many things about courage and integrity.

I hope you enjoy these words, and have a blessed Thanksgiving week.

•      •      •

Allow me to spin upon the spindle
a tale of an encounter true.
A patient once, a homeless mum,
her words now shared with you:

The hour of autumn arrives anew
when mirth and feasts abound.
But let me confess my days to you,
true gifts which have been found…

The steady cadence of my heart,
voice to praise when souls fall dark,
vision to behold each fresh day’s start-
For this, I am thankful.

The assured exhale of every breath,
joys gone by, its memories kept,
cloth to shield from winter’s death-
For this, I am thankful

Days when I can veil my cries,
days I look you in the eyes,

to know on night lies brighter skies-
For this, I am thankful.

So for this…I am thankful.

Storm.

 

A yearning
as sirens of
autumn’s breath
whisper words
of anticipation.
A rhythmic contralto
an echo to the soul
a welcomed unrest
as the valley chants 
its familiar tune.

Mesmerized
is she as gleams
of heaven incensed
unveil a sight divine.
A prelude
as skies yield to
nature’s command–
a foretaste of the
promised cleansing
of her deliverance.

Absolution.

 

Raindrops
quivering upon cheeks
warmed by the throb
of an ancient wound,
a love unknown,
their rivulets
meandered 
across flesh
marked by a
wisdom
reaped through
the fissures
of time.

Glistening
are her tears
with the scars
of yesterday,
the joys of today,
and the promise
of tomorrow
as she dances,
at last unbound,
beneath the slice

of half moon’s glow.

 

Departure.

Liberated
into the haven
of a mausoleum
lies a dove deceived-
its tattered pinions
a reminder of
a pledge riven,
a reverie tainted,

an innocence
betrayed.

Save her.
Let the shadows
of her present
console with
saccharine lies,
warm her with
tinned caresses
of boughs
freshly severed-
a revival of 
splintered promises 
of a new day–
as verdant hues
decay to dust.

To Let Go.

Despair.

Asphyxiated by the device
meant to grant you life

you pleaded to be released.

Lines running
through your veins
fighting to give you strength-

they only imprisoned you.

You-
always present
aware of the
commotion about you.

Bustling nurses
weeping children

through it all
your eyes were
locked onto mine.

“Help me let go” was your plea.

You grabbed my hand
shook your head

as if you knew this act
had been playing
long enough.

As if someone had
interrupted your journey
toward the place

you were meant to go.

So we released you.
Withdrew your tube
diminished your drips.

Severed the chains that bound you.

We comforted you.

You turned
toward your children.

Through a surge of strength
you assured them

it would be okay-
that through your going on
they would go on.

Then you turned back to me.

Though undeserving
of your last moments

you entrusted them to me.
You held my hand
held my gaze.

“Thank you,” was what you said.

And then you took your last breath.

And let us go.

 •       •       •

This patient has been in my heart lately. This post is a re-sharing of an account of our last encounter. A gentle reminder to treasure each moment given. 

 •       •       •

The Background Story

Let Us Not Live in Vain.

Dear friends, 

As we start a new week, I would like to encourage you with some of my favorite words from Emily Dickinson:

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

Wishing everyone out there a wonderful and blessed week. 

With love,
Phoebe

💜

Healer.

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.

Deliverance.

deliverance

Caressed
by the hush
of a wayward tear
emerged
from flames
that once
scalded her eyes
is an innocence lost
a wistfulness retained
a longing diffused
within the brine
of memories.

Weighted
like the dew
upon a thorn
to the force
of an ethereal call
she surrenders.
With strengthened hope
through moistened gaze
down meandered path
she searches
until finally
upon her lips
does she taste
the bittersweetness
of her deliverance.

Symphony.

Curtains raised
upon this stage
lifted shadows
one new day.
Encores played
familiar piece
kindred players
different key.
Life’s gavotte
a gleeful tune
every third beat
ends all too soon.

So what is left
now but to live
moments to take
and those to give.
To learn to love
and risk to lose
each turn a jewel
the heart will prove.
So let us grow
as rhythms flow
this one new day
for us to know.

A Search Within.

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
of memories?

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
within me?

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
within me?


Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: