Enclosed

Our bodies are meant
for the sun, the rain
the gusty winds
starlight and moon baths
fresh air and seasons —
so why do we trap ourselves
      in indoor cages?

If we can’t hear birds sing
or feel invigorating breezes —
how are we to be refreshed
to heal, to know the world
beyond the borders
      of our bodies?

—Terri Guillemets

Memorial

grieving makes us stronger —
it gives us a spirit of grace
      and the grace of spirit
our hearts feel weaker
      but living past loss is
      the ultimate courage
we honor our loved ones
      by living on despite —
      and all the more because

—Terri Guillemets

In a hospital

In a hospital
it’s difficult to listen
to sad, scary sounds
      “code blue” on intercoms
      wailing, grieving families
      beep-beep-beep of machines —
But if you listen
more carefully
you can hear
      the sound of hope
      of healing, love, and support
      caring, confident voices
      of nurses and doctors and staff
      the din and melodies of
      our imperfect and indispensable
      healthcare plexus at work

—Terri Guillemets

Ten thousand fathoms deep

“You peer into my life to find a lingering past, but I tell you it was sunk ten thousand fathoms deep and weighted down with my dead self. You look into my breast to find that old, old open wound, but I tell you I seared it with my hot tears and only the cicatrix is there.”

—Muriel Strode (1875–1964), My Little Book of Prayer, 1904