They Tell Me

THEY TELL ME

They Tell Me:

YOU ARE SICK

HEAR WHAT WE SAY

you will struggle and slog

toss in the wind of

try this, do that

go here, stay there

drag yourself to

nothing for sure

all this for

maybe living

maybe not

I Tell Them:

I WILL LET THIS TEACH ME

THIS WILL BE A LEARNING

bring your scalpels and stitches

medicines and machines

humming, whirling

contraptions to inform me

of new footsteps

better ways to stop and start

This learning brings a new attention

not rushing as I go along and along

slow walking instead of hurrying up

A chance instead 

To make prints in the soft ground of seasons

To feast on colors in a sky shot with red

To taste in myriads

not in seconds, like before

To savor the juice of a ripe peach

dribbling slowly down my chin

To slow walk a dappled path

With the grip of child’s small hand

curling mine in  precious union

To hear every note ring loud

attentive to the maestros

waving batons of slow and fast, high and low

lifting me through the drag and slog

To live everyday not as my last

But as my first

I plant my flag

wave it in the place

where the learning shows

this is where I am

will always be

celebrate the day I have

celebrate the road ahead

each paved with the maybe

and the maybe not