24 begins with its cruel rule:
"No sustenance or quenching of thirst
until the sad/happy day passes."
Caring women with initials enter
Poking, prodding, asking the same questions,
While loved ones nervously watch.
Close friends, friends, and strangers
Phone and visit, offering their comforting words.
"We love you." "We're praying for you."
"Make a pact with God." "Chin up!" "Happy Birthday!"
Their messages intermingle with disquieting thoughts
Of hopes and dreams left unfulfilled.
"Why me?" "What now?" "I knew it was too good to be true."
As hunger gnaws, and expectation is postponed.
A caring woman with initials enters one last time,
Poking, prodding, asking the same questions,
As the pushers of the bed arrive with their benign smiles.
Unwanted darkness returns,
As uncommon mortals work at their bizarre craft,
Opening the golden bowl,
Exposing its precious contents.
East and West Coast loved ones,
Separated by time and circumstance,
Carry on their prayerful vigil.
As 24 continues,
Surrounded by love,
Sustained by hope.
4/26/2018 - Poetry form: Free Verse - A friend's daughter was diagnosed with a brain tumor at the age of 23. The day surgery was scheduled just happened to be on her 24th birthday. She was supposed to be taken into surgery early in the morning, but she had to wait all day until mid-afternoon before they finally took her. All that time she couldn't eat or drink anything. Friends and relatives from the East Coast to California were wishing her a happy birthday and a successful surgery. Emotions ran high. It was very surreal. When they finally took her to surgery we didn't know if she would live or die. Thankfully, the surgery was successful. I wrote this poem for her that same night after I left the hospital. - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
