Late in the afternoon that day,
as the low sun pierced the leaves
like a thousand glimmering stars,
each of my long-dead patients rushed me
towards an unexpected, unearned bliss.
Of course, it seems shallow how memories,
obscured by our endless tasks, doings
of this moment or that, can burst
into our presence and bring us a sort
of forgiveness, lost again to life —
but it is a private, unsharable knowing,
that I pray comes to you some long,
long day, when our bleakness so common
overtakes you; may you learn to learn
this particular kind of absence,
this specific child of failure.
Poems from in between 
6 responses to “From the ether”
what an interesting poem! so much wisdom beautifully expressed! i haven’t thought about this type of “knowing,” but i can intuit its truth.
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Thank you. I think we have two reactions to out own failures; if we are lucky/wise/unafraid, we will court the second. 🙂
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I love this–the power of poetry–the need to share the “private, unsharable knowing” and the way that even when we feel we can’t understand exactly, we can still find some connection.
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Mmmm. Well said. Thank you!
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This speaks so deeply to me I’m not even sure what to say. I will say, though, that “as the low sun pierced the leaves / like a thousand glimmering stars” is just beautiful!
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Oh. That is so kind of you to say. I am glad it connected with you.
Sent from my iPhone
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