I was moved to attune her
to my own form of Celestial Healing
given to me by Spirit:
pink, lavender, violet, red,
combining in a magenta ray.
‘Oh,’ she said, ‘That’s why
I’ve kept on seeing those colours.’
She couldn’t stand for the whole,
although it was light and quick.
Walking down the hospital corridor
for a cup of tea with me
had worn her out. We managed it
with her sitting on the edge of the bed,
after which she was near collapse.
A few days later she died
and so I’ve wondered,
why was I meant to give her
that healing energy which didn’t save her?
But I’ve written already
of her pain-free, inspiring, triumphant death —
and I understand finally: that’s why.
April PAD Challenge 11
Prompt: The Last ... [fill in the blank].
Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.)
They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here.
Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your posts as much as possible.