Poem: Open Heart Surgery

I cannot tell you about the sunrise on the Sound today
About the fiery sky
and the half moon directly above me,
shining her bright benediction.
There's no way I can describe the comfort
of the silent mountain in the distance.
And the way the mist rose off the still waters
or the sound of the gulls' call through the morning air.
I had to close my eyes
to still the weeping of this humbled heart.

And when it seemed the glory was waning, as glories do,
the eagle came, to catch her breakfast in the waters before me.
I cannot explain how it felt to belong to this wonder.
As I walked slowly, the sun rose over the hills, drying my salty tears.

In days to come, when I am world weary,
I will have the joy of that bright sky in me.
When I am uncertain and blown about by winds of change,
I will have that solid mountain to ground me.
When words cause confusion instead of understanding,
I will have that bird song to soften and ease me.
When I am tossed and torn with worries and wild thoughts,
I will have that peaceful water reflecting the gentle moon.
And when I am fearful, I will borrow the confidence
and clear-seeing of that eagle.

I can tell you that If I am struck
blind tomorrow this sunrise will be what  
would have wanted to see today.

by Barbara Casey
November 11, 2001
Camp Indianola, Puget Sound

PDF of this issue