The Conflicting Cancer. . . .


The Conflicting Cancer. . .

The water runs cool and I soak
the facecloth to make it wet and wrung out
as I fold it over your very warm brow.

Ahhh you say and it feels better and
I know my presence is the comfort needed.
Your hands unclench  and I see you rest.

I’ve borne you in good health and
see you now as you struggle.  You
still are the babe I brought to borne.

And this is your world.  I will cherish it for you
until health returns you to your past
for you to guard.  This space is given

to parents, the nurturers.  Your heart
responds to the one who cools the cloth
and brings the bouillon.

Childhood fevers are gone quickly
when fortunes play fairly.   It is a good thing.
The large annoyances require more than

a cool cloth on a hot brow.
But the nurtured children will grow to discipline
a wayward world with deftness.

Their split within will be healed seamlessly.
It is the child within who is healed
by the parent  nurturing the progeny borne of them.

The cool cloth on the fevered brow will soothe
the raging fever and soon will there be healing.
The child so tended will heal the seamless rip

that stood between him and his God.  It is useless to try
to heal a raging fire with cool cloths without healing
the soul of him who fevers.  Soon he will be asked

to wage war on brothers in conflict not with each other
but within themselves.  Wars continue until the

conflicting cancer is healed within.

artwork by Claudia Hallissey

4 responses to “The Conflicting Cancer. . . .”

  1. When I saw your post in my email I opened it right away, I find I’m searching for understanding, and guidance from the people I love and whose thoughts ideas and opinions I admire. Your poem helped with that understanding. I think one of my greatest fears is the divisiveness from all different sides. The lack of unity. You remind me to once again go into myself and be strong within.

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