Birth
I have seen the caul
like honey glazed
contain and bathe
in sweet succor,
kept watch as
mother's wombs
tear in pain to
bear their child
and then
as if my first,
stood aside and
cried with awe at
the birth,
that quiescent harbor
where life sings
psalmic verses
of calms and storms
rains and draughts
sun lights and dark nights,
agendas to live on forever.
1993
This states best as I can the overwhelming emotion I feel, day by day as I
attend births.
Courage
"Until the day of his death,
no man can be sure of his courage"
Jean Anouilh, Becket
He was a being in search of his destiny,
And with abundant virtues and dignities,
He filled his days with endeavors of selfless devotion.
A sage with a love for mankind,
He cared for the needy with reverence.
Though the sorrow we feel is deep,
We must not share in his suffering, but
Triumph over his death by committing our
Hearts, our bosoms, and our most visceral spirits
To profound purpose.
Yes, stand tall, thy men of courage,
For a leader amongst us has fallen.
With gallant humanism, and valiant resolve,
He leaves Our mortal plains and hills of despair
To ascend his mountain peaks of glory.
With his inspirations of vitality and hope,
Everything was beautiful and good.
We lament his short life, yet find comfort that
His mortal being was but "a fleeting gleam"
Between two eternity's of tranquil salvation;
Be comforted; for now, His soul is at rest,
Cradled in peace.
1991
Written for a friend and colleague upon his death.
Andira
Beneath their feet the parched leaves crack.
Lifeless, fallen branches fracture.
Wearily fathers hunt and search
To mend the pains of endless thirst.
A mother cradles to her chest,
The newborn child upon her breast,
And while gazing towards the cloudless sky.
Asks why be born if now to die?
Wasted by their arid land,
Children beg with outstretched hand
Their feeble voices impotent,
To cry; A Death-Watch all too silent.
Hunger cries but finds no ears,
None to help their doleful tears.
Impoverished people bearing sorrow.
Starved today; entombed tomorrow.
1993
Andira is a genus of tropical tree found in Africa known as a "rain
tree". This poem is written in memory of all children who have died and are dying
from the ugliness of starvation.
The Din
a clamor.
louder
than the searing noise of
jackhammers,
trucks, motorcycles
and the like,
pains my ears:
gunshots and sirens,
screaming mother's tears.
murdered teens-
just children you know,
dead now over some drug deal
or gangland ego.
a disordered, senseless waste
of human life and vigor,
granted to every person of every
race,
by god's decree
of just equality.
yet of those who escape
the leaded missiles
from wanton guns,
or needles
infected with contagion;
of those not starved
for food or love
or for learning;
nor for clothes
or shelter or for yearning
to have a solitary chance
to breathe
per chance.
the fresh air of a country
morning,
i ask:
"what is it you fear,
what clamor do you hear?"
1993
For those who can see and feel and fear the horror calling at our
doorsteps.
Asclepidae
From Hippocrates
On whom we swore
And Aesculapius
Who thus bore
Hygeia, we now
With dutiful dedication
Somehow
Must manage to transcend
A myriad of extrinsic forces
With one purpose: to mend
The bleeding and the cries
Of our diverse patients' lives.
We birth their children,
Curette their wombs,
Remove their tumors,
And for those whom
Maladies cause pain,
We set upon a course of healing
So that once again
Their being is restored.
But there is much more,
So very much more.
For the primal core
Of what we dedicate
Our time and strength
Is not just to operate,
Or to "stand before" and facilitate
The births of tomorrow's children,
But rather to provide
True counsel;
To advise and to guide
Through the darkest paths
In the deepest forests
Of our patients lives.
For when they face us,
Stare, eye to eye
And mourn their loss
Of health, of parent or of child;
When marriage dissolves into divorce,
And depressive thoughts of suicide
Bring them to us
And us to their bedside,
We must be skilled with more
Than laser or with knife.
We must be filled
With integrity and
compassion,
The moral virtues
of our life,
And bring to the ill
Comfort, sympathy and
hope.
1993
The Asclepidae was the Greek Priest-Physician family of which Hippocrates was a
member physician and surgeon. This is written as a plea for those medical
students and residents who have chosen Obstetrics and Gynecology as their
profession.
Aoide
The first song on earth
Was a child's cry,
A canticle of absolute beauty.
Each note a bequest for eternity; Ageless
music of heartsounds
And first-breath sighs
To immortalize
The promise of humankind.
1993
Aoide is the Greek Muse of Song. These lines are a dedication to
the labor and delivery suite of Yale- New Haven Hospital where I practice.
Decent...Ascent
My face droops, chiseled
with furrows of sadness.
Eden is no longer.
Trust teeters
tenuously in anonymity.
Ignorance,
Poverty,
Desperation,
Cohabit; irrational and violent.
Sickness lusts. Death waits.
I tremble
Yet, steadfastly will I climb,
season to season,
for a lifetime,
amidst tendril roots and ragged
crevices,
in search of reason,
and when weary and my flesh aches, and
heart hypoxic hungrily palpitates,
my sight dims
and body falls painfully sick,
I'll travel obscure atmospheres
glancing back to see
past images appear
of life's fine threads and
loves unspooled, with
unimagined clarity
and pause, alone
upon the threshold
of my empyrean home,
and whisper prayerful
thoughts
to heal my wounded soul.
1993
Despite anguish, pessimism and opprressions , there can be discovered
wonderment and hopeful optimism throughout the course of our
lives.