Exhaled breath to the end Emptied pulsing heart confused by hate and race not white under the weight of grace-less men this Black life matters "Mama" please rest in peace
A story lives in the shape of things
words in the walls
left unspoken or unheard.
A memory in the feel of the air
blowing through time
trapped in a trinket or touch.
A heart holds tight with a tear or a smile
in the wisps and wonder
of lover speak.
New Mexico 8/2014
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.
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.
Barely awake with tangled thoughts
for the energy of presence
seemingly above it all
radiates like heat
into the burden of the soul
The heart grows tender only in the dark places of pain and loss
where seeds of anger die too slowly
but then reach
for the hope of rebirth
for the delicate touch of light
for a healing shower of grace and love
Attached to this moment by a thin string pulled
by a memory my body won’t cut loose.
An uncoordinated swallow and choking breath
release head from heart.
Trust dissolved in rhythms that would otherwise heal.