My soul has gone a-roaming, far and wide.
It was born away by foaming crests of unfamiliar sorrow.
Because it was I who had seen what ear could not hear, nor mouth could speak.
A lone form huddled by a bedside.
With angular face and black threaded hair,
You stranger laid the deepest part of your bosom bare.
Tears streamed from a face filled with cataclysmic thoughts as you encircled your love in a comforting embrace.
I beheld your doubt as it rolled off your nose, and pooled at the side of your beloved.
Now I’ll never be rid of that scene in my head for you held him so close with a fear justified,
But with hope sincere, and a love deeply divine.
Such things are not taught in classrooms and books, these things can only come where one chooses to look,
Now I take all these thoughts and wait on the edge, for my soul to come back, to be renewed again.
The poems this month have a very personal touch as each one was crafted silently by the bedside of a dying patient. This poem is part of a larger collection highlighting my personal experience working in the healthcare field. If you’d like to read more follow the link here.
Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.