Witness to Love

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Witness to love


Who is this old man hooked to a respirator?
How could he elicit passion? Or make a woman dazed
With ecstasy? I shyly introduced myself, and sat to observe
I witnessed love in its most heroic form manifest
My friend, lot younger than him, tended to his care with tenderness. She too has aged, perhaps in solidarity of his travails

Surely in his eyes there is a sign of the man she fell in love with?
Before the ravages of illness sucked his vital energy, a debilitated
Puppet; a child in diapers; a decimated version of his former self?
Grasping desperately with each forced breath, for yet another day
I wanted to cry, for in the midst of this heinous spectacle, love
Shined in her eyes. Love, fear, and tremendous fatigue

Yes, there is a keen intellect in his eyes. What did he feel internally? I saw a glimpse of shame for the spectacle he became…
And the burden as well. I put aside my unease and instead
Placed my hand on his bony back. Willing to infuse him with
Optimism and strength, urging him to take one more breath,
Assuring him that all would be well in the end

With tenderness I grasped his left hand in both of mine
It was cold, and I grabbed on to inject some warmth
Thus so we both prayed for his speedy recovery
I think it worked, for he’s been taken out of ICU yesterday
Some sneer at love and prayer, as if these were for the birds
Would they dare to contemplate what would sustain them in similar events?






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