You are Broken and You Are Whole

This morning,
you are shining blonde hair,
full belly laughing,
a field of glow.

My heart falls into place.
I remember you
clutching your belly
on the cold tile floor
in the Boston hotel,
writhing
burning
silent screams.
You needed me
to stay back.
I have never felt so helpless.

Disease is a cauldron,
boils us to the core,
disrupts
dismantles
strips layers of seeming safety.
Disease keeps us in not knowing,
stretches us beyond
where we think we can go.
Forges us in its heat.
Transforms.
Humbles.

You tend to this wisely
in your quiet ways.
Grace is known to you.
Pain and fire,
the teachers that
turn you towards
the Sacred.

I do not know
all the ways of your mind
or see all the times
you fall to your knees.
Yet it is clear today
by your restful smile
that you are watering
holy seeds
and sit,
cupped,
In the hands of the Universe.

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Questions for Contemplation

Has illness impacted you or someone close to you?

What are the ways that this experience has challenged or stretched you?

If your experience with illness has been transformative, what are some of the meaningful ways that this has changed you? For example, are there qualities, such as patience, courage, trust or compassion that have opened in you?

Has this illness been a ‘teacher’ for you? What have you learned about yourself and life?