Waiting There

Shattering, the love of heart and soul.
Expecting more than one can ever know.
A gentle touch, a sweet caress,
can't nullify the pain of loneliness.

When everything's been said and more
than ever we had wished to say out loud.
I watch her struggling within an awful pain.
Unable now to utter words enflamed
by all the visions of her life.

I feel her screaming out to me.
I know not what to say or do.
I nearly scream aloud, as if
her screaming were the only
truth left living.

Her body, flesh and bone,
no more than shell. And yet,
there's still a will to live somehow.
Exasperated by her lack of strength.
I catch her hand upon the brink
and wonder if it helps to keep her
hanging on like this.

The doctors, more aloof as time goes on.
Not wishing e'er to focus on the pain
their medications make into an agony
of going on and on. I see it in her eyes,
that she still knows what's going on. It
seems as if the silence of her voice were
asking me to help her just move on
into the letting go she seeks and needs.

Alone, I blindly weep - for all her agony
is seeping somehow into me. Would it be
evil of me now to wish that she might
travel on...? Into a realm not really known.
Into a dream that loves forevermore.
Fading in the distance, on some
shining, golden shore.

Here, upon the brink of life and death.
There, within a soft, sweet springtime breath.
Hope dissolving in the greater burden
of her pain. Sunny skies that feel like
cold, dark rain. Withdrawn into her
reaching out, the tears upon her cheek
seem too essential to be wrong.

She clings to me, and every time I leave
it is as if I break her heart again. The flow
of pain becomes too strong for me to bear.
This empathy is tearing me apart.
Bit by bit, and cell by cell, no matter
where I dwell. It swells in cyclic fashion
that no longer finds release.

If only I could ease our weary minds.
And show her somehow, how to climb
outside her mind with soul ever-abiding.
She's angry at those male gods, creating
so much travesty. She calls out to her
mother in these nights of heart's decrees.
What sense, this endless suffering she bears...?

I know it too, and there is no one left
to pray to anymore. Infinite, the deities
that live in distanced madness too surreal
to touch the living flesh of life. Another
flash of pain, the endless strife. One more
life lived in a moodiness of multiples - e'er
too extreme. It must be time to follow through
somehow.

I stand behind her in her wheel chair.
Loving her amid the helpless feelings
that we share. Some say that one alone
can make a difference. In younger days
I thought that must be true. And yet there is
an awful pain that comes within the rage
of shining wisdom. I see it still alive
within her eyes and hear it ringing
through and through.

As if an altered bell were somehow
chiming through the very crux
of all men's great divisions. Still,
every now and then, I sense
the vision of her heaven
waiting there...

? Michaelette ?

5/6/2004
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .