Poems of Sorrow: Helpless Observer

Death confronts us with our mortality and helplessness.  Regardless of our precautions and prays, we cannot bring someone back.  After the fetal heart monitor no longer indicated life, Rebecca and I had only to wait for the medical procedures to induce labor and to clear her body of the tissue that threatened infection.  Some might think that my stoicism and determination come from my heritage and upbringing.  I believe this experience, and the subsequent months and years, forced me to live with what I could not change.  As I watched Rebecca sleep, I wrote this poem of sorrow.  

Helpless observer
I stand beside you.
I can do no more.
Than be your strength.
I wish the pain to go
But you body still bleeds.
I wish the fever to leave
But this too you must suffer.
Though I pray for relief
I cannot usurp
The limits of our humanity.
So I’ll grasp you hand
And set my cheek near yours
And whisper encouragement.
And when you sleep
I stare across the Eastern horizon
To find my strength.


About hermitsdoor

Up here in the mountains, we have a saying, "You can't get there from here", which really means "We wouldn't go the trouble to do that". Another concept is that "If you don't know, we ain't telling." For the rest, you'll have to read between the lines.
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