Satisfied by pain. A reflection from hospice.
Where were you when all the scrubs marched towards death?
I was in a thousand cars, and the buzz of the fly both calms and infuriates.
Where were you when the patient became a person?
I was in a thousand living rooms and the sweet smell of grandparents cut me and soothed me.
Where were you when the last puff of dew lept from the cave that announced death's arrival?
I was in a thousand moments, but none the same as the one before or the next.
Who were you in the sacred normal moments?
I was the same in the sacred final moments.
Why do you march toward sadness and pain and where do you hide it?
I journey towards love, and would not hide that pain, i take it with me when I'm done.
What do you do when the dark finally finds you in those great moments of loss?
I enter a thousand cars, a thousand living rooms, a thousand moments, I look at the rough pages of pain i have written on throughout it all and i discover life and thereby find myself satisfied.
Posted Jul 20, 2022, 6:28 AM UTC · edited