Surely the Next
Still life. A doily. A fan. A prayer in a frame.
A reminder of the work left to be done.
It is hard to feel it some days.
Today for instance. But the work is there.
It is waiting for you. To heal.
To find the work you are suited for,
And begin. Maybe again. Maybe anew.
Death is a stopping. It happens
even to the living. But not to you.
Not today. You were made, wounds and all,
to grow, to bear fruit, if not in this season,
then surely the next.
About this poem.
Inspired by the prayer in the picture, which comes from Wilson Castle in Proctor, VT. I go in for another kidney stone blasting in a couple of days, frustrated by the delays and setbacks, but determined to get back into shape for the next season of life.
There’s work left to be done.