retorts a poem written on the thirteenth day
of the penultimate day of the month:
feeling fine, feeling remarkably fine
and I’m trying for a re-birth
at what should be, probably is:
close to the end of a reasonably long life.
Earlier in the year an attempt was made
to insert a stent to my heart. Thinking one,
they found two, the more recent
quiet small: and dealt to it: went on
to the larger one. The patient (myself)
watched them as they worked. And
then the nurse leaves her monitor duties
and comes to my side.
I have little recall of her words
so soon, as they say, I was out
like a light; inserting wires had
snapped, not once but twice.
There followed an emergency retrieval.
Next morning the little surgeon
came to my bedside; and said
“I may never touch you again.”
And though I struggled with
that deep cobbled wound in the groin and what
is called “referred pain” in my shoulder:
(strange as that may seem.) I’d
screamed and moaned. And later
I would think “And maybe I just
will not let you touch me again.”
But I’m determined and I’m hopeful.
I live in hope.
I am determined
to heal, alter diet, exercise.
I don’t regard myself as desperate;
but I’ve heard of vegan miracles.
Each day I chip away
at what I regard as my re-birth.
How far will I get! Only time will tell.
This is the pen and the thoughts
of a forever optimist.
It’s near the end of the year.
A new year is waiting to be born;
feeling fine; feeling remarkably fine;
metaphorically young in heart & mind,
I’m working on some re-birth.
Benita H. Kape (c) 13.11.2019
This poem is shared in dVerse https://dversepoets.com/ Amaya hosting has requested poems on the subject of birth.
Each day I chip away
at what I regard as my re-birth.
I love that, it struck a chord with me.
I think you’ve had more than an annus horribilis, Benita – there must be a stronger term than that. I knew you’d had cardiac surgery, but I didn’t realise it had been so horrific. It’s good to see your writing again. I love the multiple re-births in this – the year, you. It’s a good time to reflect – I guess it’s spring with you?
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Thank you Sarah. Yes, it has been quite a journey. What is startling is when some nurses and doctors say to me they have never heard of something like that happening. In the recovery op. the nerve of the inner right thigh was severed. If not completely severed they can repair, not so for me so that the inner thigh has no feeling (and yet it sometimes feels like long thin needles are poking into it). The outer leg is normal.
But to happy things. Yes it is spring and my cherry trees are in bloom as are the roses; one climbing beauty is named Compassion.
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By the way, I’m trying to pull together some poems for a Festival of Women’s Voices, to mark International Women’s Day next year. I’d love it if I could get something from you. The theme is “How I found my voice”.There’s more information here: https://fmmewritespoems.wordpress.com/2019/07/29/poetry-call/
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An exciting project and I thank you for the opportunity to participate. Putting it on my stickies and getting my thinking cap on.
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Your determination to heal is admirable and I believe, is the one thing your body is asking of you. I wish you many blessings for your rebirth.
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How wonderful to have a rebirth… and I hope you continue to heal
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Glorious morning here Bjorn and certainly feels like rebirth is possible.
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