Some days, while recuperating from chemotherapy, radiation therapy and lately, from surgery, I have wondered if I will ever be able to take a day for granted again. The process seems so long and pain persists. Nothing feels normal. Going out is hard work.
I did manage to take Bronwen to a favourite cafe recently, and as we sat in the sunny courtyard and watched happy shoppers, I was inspired to write this poem.
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I sit and sip my latte
And watch as passers-by
All go about their business;
Walk determined; heads held high.
They seem to have no cares at all
No stumbles, aches or pain
Their laughter and their banter
Make a warm spring-time refrain.
I muse about the last time
I took days in my stride;
Talking, walking, driving;
Purposefully occupied.
Not shackled by pain management;
No cause to make me think
Of how to do what I must do;
What not to eat or drink.
But who knows if they also
Watch me and think the same.
For neither me nor they
Know our backgrounds or our name
Who knows the inner conflicts
Masked so easily with a smile;
What problems each is wrestling
Set aside for just a while..
Appearance is deceiving
And each of us cries out
For some recognition
Of what we’re all about.
“Judge not and we shall not be judgedâ€
But deal to all the same.
Who knows the love we proffer
Will touch some unseen pain.