Skin

Bearers of power live from the surface

skin deep

the only measure of dominance.

Too many die in the shadow

of their sun spared wrappings

Of hate by exclusion

Of what matters in black.

Regarding death….

The personal threat of death looms heavy.

The air we breathe seems thick with risk. 

As a physician, I live quite cautiously – very aware of biology and consequence.

At the same time I live blindly in service to a call.

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So regarding my death,

I am aware of treasured moments and hope 

yet also the horror of being very alone in fear…

today that will be enough.

Everyday

building door entrance exit
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Every day breathes hope from forgotten dreams

taking for granted expected miracles of awareness.

But out the door then,

without coat or cover

on to a human paced journey of doing and stuff-

an accustomed living with exposed intentions

and brokenness, storms and tantrums,

only then to circle back where a closed door shields the heart

in prayerful submission to the chill of that day’s failed ending.

 

Rhonda

brown glass fragrance bottle beside white pearl bracelets

I chose the yellowed white pearls your hands crafted,

gifted art, 

entwined with my memory forever.

Now on the morning drive west

the pink gold sun

rises slowly behind me.

This gift speaks your goodbye to me.

Your death was from my art undone.

I am sorry.

There is more care than orders scripted or procedures done,

more than the fatigue of so much hurt.

I chose the yellowed white pearls

entwined in memory,

awakened to a daily becoming,

not fading

burning off the haze of dawn.