Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Light Show

I am not, nor have I ever tried to be, a poet. I have never written poetry before. This started to come to me in the hospital, while I was still wondering about the efficacy of the transplant. I finally finished it and wrote it down a couple of weeks ago, and I just now got the nerve to post it for the world to see.

Light Show
Dark hospital bed,
alone, lying cold,
wondering if I
will ever grow old

enough to know why
this is happening
to me

Hard hospital bed,
awake, lying cold
no revealation;
then realization
that I will grow old

enough when I grow
into the warm, soft
Light of the One who
made me

Deacon John
Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross

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