Poetry Friday
The Wild Iris At the end of my sufferingthere was a door. Hear me out: that which you call deathI remember. Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.Then nothing. The weak sunflickered over… Continue reading
The Wild Iris At the end of my sufferingthere was a door. Hear me out: that which you call deathI remember. Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.Then nothing. The weak sunflickered over… Continue reading
A prayer for when we have come to the end of our own resources We struggle, we grow weary, we growtired.We are exhausted, we are distressed, we despair.We give up, we fall down,… Continue reading
I tell you thisto break your heart,by which I mean onlythat it break open and never close againto the rest of the world. Mary Oliver
This quote from Barry Lopez’s allegorical novella might at first seem like a poetic ideal, far removed from the complex realities of modern healthcare. But in my work as a patient advocate, Badger’s… Continue reading
Love after Love The time will comewhen, with elationyou will greet yourself arrivingat your own door, in your own mirrorand each will smile at the other’s welcome, and say, sit here. Eat.You will… Continue reading