Some goldfinches were having a melodious argument at the edge of a puddle. The birds wanted to bathe, or perhaps just to dip their heads and look at themselves, and they were having trouble with who should be first, and so on. So they discussed it while I stood in the distance, listening. Perhaps in Tibet, in the old holy places, they also have such fragile bells. Or are these birds really just that, bells come to us--come to this road in America--let us bow our heads and remember now how we used to do it, say a prayer. Meanwhile the birds bathe and splash and have a good time. Then they fly off, their dark wings opening from their bright, yellow bodies; their tiny feet, all washed, clasping the air.
Oh, but your poetic heart shines through to soothe this kind of heartache. I will be thinking of him/mom/you, and praying he will pull through and see the miracle of his life.
ReplyDeleteHope you can get a much needed break this weekend. xo
Amen. It's because of Angels such as you that these tragic circumstances that unfold in the lives of our loved ones find solace. Thank you for all that you do.
ReplyDeleteI can't think of anything sadder, really, than this situation--for everyone: the profound and persistent sorrow that would make someone want to take his or her own life as the only answer, then that of those who struggle to understand that motive in its aftermath. Guilt, shame, sadness, anger--all those emotions ripple out and turn into waves that threaten to drown them all. Your compassion and presence will be long remembered, I know.
ReplyDeleteSometimes this work is truly heartbreaking. Wishing you peace sister nurse.
ReplyDeleteI echo that which has already been said.
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