The lake outside my corner room
shimmers in the morning sun.
Rays of hope, they seek their way,
piercing through the naked glass.
Glistening drops of liquid drug
pause, then down the tubing flow.
Rush of warmth around my neck,
Flush, a tingle, soon I lapse
through misty shafts of time gone by.
Listless brittle falling hair,
Sore and flaky, dry, cracked lips,
No spit to smooth my peeling palms,
Or lift those achy arms and hips.
Stay positive, my doctor said,
Chemo’s old, take a pill instead.
Thrilled I was to move ahead,
Not so fast, my head it said.
Wrapping pressure, fluffy clouds
Circling softly around my ears,
Blurry eyes, listless stare
Vexing, stippled rash that spread
Stay positive, my doctor said.
An extra pill, then close my eyes
With care I tread, a foggy path
through rocky cliffs.
My team I trust, they cheer each step
Up or down the cryptic vale,
Words like cure I’d love to hear,
The doctor, tense like helpless deer
Trapped in poison nettle vines
Sighs and says, I’m not divine
Months, perhaps another year.
No magic orb I have my dear,
Stay positive, my doctor said.
My spirit, tenacious, gracefully glides
On the rink of hope, fear subsides.
Straddling life and afterlife,
Peaceful now, let go all strife.
P.S: A poem I wrote a while back.
