Diagnosis

For Elisha  
 
I.  
 
I am sure you felt its shadow  
 locomotive smoke growing thicker  
that plumule bomb  
of hazardous waste  
pulverizing the landscape  
of your lungs  
 
There are so many cliches  
for a time like this. . .  
 
‘Take care of you’  
‘It will be alright’  
‘I’m so sorry’  
‘I’m here if you need me’  
'What can I do'  
 
But the truth is  
it hurts to concentrate  
on a war game  
of chemotherapy  
and radiation roulette  
 
II.  
 
There is a nervousness  
to an unknown outcome  
after a villain strikes  
our current state of health  
 
Or someone we admire  
 
Cancer’s rat-like lurking  
haunting capillaries  
with subtle trickeries  
of normalcy before  
 
BOOM!  
 
ambushing us  
to claw for breath  
 
III.  
 
I know you must be tired  
hoping the suffering will last  
only a short while  
before it’s over again  
 
Perhaps you extend dreams  
to the infinite Universe  
to seek matching energy  
 
Maybe your faith  
is so far ahead  
it signals,  
‘Listen. . .  
‘It will all work out’  
 
Or you’ll offer  
a piece of yourself  
in exchange  
for added years  
as you did before  
 
IV.  
 
I’m beginning to doubt  
this poem  
It’s taken over  
and I don’t know where it’s going  
 
I want to re-frame it  
calibrate it to the energy of spring  
after spring  
witness the repetition of new life  
beneath your bare feet  
 
A guaranteed path to trod  
singular, yet well-worn  
by previous survivors  
of an unexpected war  
 
I want to live  
where Mother Gaia’s breath  
disarms grenades  
and the skip  
of bouncing Betty’s  
is seen no more  
 
Where I find the vibration  
that feels foreign to our bones  
but familiar to the soul  
 
The hummingbird cure  
of nature's naturalists  
reverencing holistic  
rather than Western antics  
for profit  
 
Emptying sickness  
by gentle faith and belief  
until your body becomes a geyser  
springing tears from every pore  
a tidal rush flow  
wholly cleansing you  
inside out  
 
This time for good  
 
No locomotives  
approaching your perimeter  
only blue, smokeless skies  
 
No tripwires or hidden mines  
within range or sight  
 
Only an open horizon  
of many  
            many  
                  many  
 
                       decades of life