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sonya-ki-tomlinsonPoems
It's a mystery to note that despite how advanced in age we are still we earnestly strive to survive, preserve at all costs this physical entity My sister, Vivien and I watched vicariously as our 91 year old Father tubes plugged in every orifice and cavity sat gripping the edge of his hospital bed gasping for air We didn't know it then, but he was suffering a mild heart attack mentally, tenderly we massaged his Spirit with prayers I thought to myself how difficult it is to convince yourself that you are not this body while warm blood and passions rush through veins and brick by brick from birth we carefully construct, insulate, protect, pamper and cater to the whims and demands of this terra firma I stared numbly as hospital staff wheeled Dad away for further tests Emergency room visits were fast becoming a regular ritual Intravenous bags hang heavy black nimbus clouds stingily dispensing one last drop of mortality my heart a stone sinking in my chest plummeted with a thud into a bottomless inky pool so many poignant, familial memories rowing merrily across the paper thin surface of Life's fragile dream I could sense my mother's intangible presence close by   soft brown sepia eyes gazing tenderly through the partially drawn diaphanous veils chariots swinging low father's condition is stable now though they released him for the holidays the appellation, "Comeback Charlie" our nickname for his extraordinary resilience and vigor didn't have quite the same ring something missing, that spark, stolen reflected in hollow, vacant jack-o-lantern eyes I prayed as we prepared a tropical fruit basket to cheer him up that he would clearly see an Angel not a thief standing eternally by his side
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Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 10:12 AM UTC
Extracelestial
It's a mystery to note that despite how advanced in age we are still we earnestly strive to survive, preserve at all costs this physical entity My sister, Vivien and I watched vicariously as our 91 year old Father tubes plugged in every orifice and cavity sat gripping the edge of his hospital bed gasping for air We didn't know it then, but he was suffering a mild heart attack mentally, tenderly we massaged his Spirit with prayers I thought to myself how difficult it is to convince yourself that you are not this body while warm blood and passions rush through veins and brick by brick from birth we carefully construct, insulate, protect, pamper and cater to the whims and demands of this terra firma I stared numbly as hospital staff wheeled Dad away for further tests Emergency room visits were fast becoming a regular ritual Intravenous bags hang heavy black nimbus clouds stingily dispensing one last drop of mortality my heart a stone sinking in my chest plummeted with a thud into a bottomless inky pool so many poignant, familial memories rowing merrily across the paper thin surface of Life's fragile dream I could sense my mother's intangible presence close by   soft brown sepia eyes gazing tenderly through the partially drawn diaphanous veils chariots swinging low father's condition is stable now though they released him for the holidays the appellation, "Comeback Charlie" our nickname for his extraordinary resilience and vigor didn't have quite the same ring something missing, that spark, stolen reflected in hollow, vacant jack-o-lantern eyes I prayed as we prepared a tropical fruit basket to cheer him up that he would clearly see an Angel not a thief standing eternally by his side
sonya-ki-tomlinson
Written by
sonya-ki-tomlinson
American
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 10:12 AM UTC
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