Birth and death..a study in respiration |
The last of my fathers' generation In my family will meet her fate In a narrow hospital bed While we hold our breath, and wait. She was rushed to into Pallitive care In a hemorrhagic, pathetic state A room reserved for the actively dying To force each breath and wait. The family gathers round my dear aunt Praying the pain will abate Their tears watering the dry, slow time In ragged sobs, they wait. I'm tired and spent with grief..and then Although the hour is late I hear the strains of Brahms lullabye I hold my heart, and wait. A new life has just been recieved A miracle love can create And tears of joy follow so many hours Where you hold your breath, and wait. I thought of how like these two places are Each stands at a fleshly gate One spirit arrives and one departs While love holds its breath, and waits. Only active dying and active labor May remain for the appointed date With Death or Life: The passive must go To count pains or breaths, and wait. And those whose work is life and death Speak in low tones to relate How discomfort can be eased, if we Remember our breathing while we wait. Then the moment comes, the pushing begins And the labor of living is so great The old and tired give up the breath Held for so long, and wait. Labor of a new life, one floor below Begins to respirate And cries of joy echo newborn tears The end of a breathless wait. Now I stand, as the older generation Knowing life has death as its' mate I've come to love one and hate the other As I number my own breaths,and wait. But I know Life and Love and Time Have power to destroy or elate So help me jump into the next minute Not to sit idle and wait. And Life whispers in my heart, "Don't grieve; celebrate! You will see all those lost again! Now hold your breath, and Wait!" |