The Pain Took Over

The Pain took Over

(“The path of the godly leads to life. So why fear death?” Proverbs 12:28)

There are days for sitting outside the tent,
leaves and needles scattered, pinecones the squirrels have
rattled, and the wisps of last night’s fire are faint smoke
in the midmorning warm. No one offered, before I turned 20,
that days like these might cease, that age would counter the
delight of waking in the woods.

There are days for waking before the children,
vacation opens the door, the chivalry of open-ended mornings.
Those days, having found a grassy patch, mom and dad
have the grey cabin tent to themselves. Two young boys giggle
in their two-man dome tent next door. Dad was always gone
before they awoke,
and returned by the time coffee was on. He had discovered
his anonymous café. No one suggested, before I turned 50,
that I would rarely wake before 10.

When the pain took over, it was a downhill coast across weeks,
(allergy, infection, spinal fluid, immune reaction), and had to end
at the bottom of the hill bouncing with only an annoying start.

When the pain too over, it was a nonstop careen down the months,
(rare disease, unknown cause, no cure, relief a mirage), pinball
crashing from specialist to specialist; each appointment a
half-hour dissertation of the physicians’ reputation and an empty
jug of answers: $150 per hour please.

When the pain took over, it was monotonous train clacking down the years,
(same song, same verse, more drugs, no cures), pinball machines
attack my pain like a steam-engine demolishing meditative retreat.

No one told me, an hour, two at the most, is all, before I’m 60,
I can focus; read, paint, write or sing. Set up camp: out of the question.
Run down a forehand: leave my head on the baseline. Take
my darling to dinner: lay my head upon the table.

Cry and hope, question and sling the quiet out the window;
I’ve heard the answers, the air, the acquaintance, the songs,
the patience I am told inspires the bold.

If I could choose one afternoon, it would be, soon please,
to live from then till dusk without a single grimace at all.