Your Soul Knows

Your Soul Knows

A Poem by papaed
"

Written to my son after breaking 27 bones in a vehicle accident 5 months ago. He just started walking again.

"

Oh my son,

You work to relax, to play, 

to escape, to relieve stress, 

to pass the time.

You believe it’s expected, 

natural, righteous.

You’re rarely centered, balanced, 

content, relaxed, living the moment

But your soul knows.


You tell yourself, for money, 

for kids, for house, for future

Years pass with ignored dreams

lost sleep, worn body

Each day much like the last.

But your soul knows.


That fateful moment late at night

with eyes to home and hearth

with body weary and craving rest

plunging foot-first 

along a narrow well-lit path

at speeds not meant for mortals.

Your focus slid into the dark,

let dreams intrude ,

and reality exude a tempting pillow, 

soft and warm.

But your soul knew.


Then the explosion,

all consuming, without warning, 

horrid unearthly, in-human, 

lasting only a second,

filled the dark for miles

You awoke, cold and alone

soaked with fear and blood

bringing ugly painful reality

to your essence 

and to my essence

And our souls knew.


One moment sitting tall 

on the well worn path,

the next clutched 

by the metallic bone-banging

hand of fate.

One moment in control,

the next controlled/contained

in a hot steel cage pressed with pain.

One moment intact,

the next broken,

your spirit knocked askew 

and begging, lonely, cold, 

at other’s mercy.

But your soul knew.


Living through the night 

with snatches of lucid.

moments of memory grasped,

of ambulance ceiling,

of chopper rocking smooth.

Then awaking in the room 

that was to be your home

for a difficult few weeks

eyes slit in a morphine whirl,

lips begging for moisture,

hip, leg, and feet in traction, 

pain always at the edge.

Concerned family around you.

And your soul knew.


Goals became simple, but difficult.

Recover from three surgeries,

first pee, first colon function,

first food, first back on internet,

off pain-drip, then first out of bed.

travel to rehab where others are worse 

then travel to home.

The reality will fade, 

but the pins will remain.

And your soul knows.


Listen to your heart.

Yield to your passions.

Fulfill yourself.

Be the good husband and father.

You’ll be the good son.

Watch for the door.

Open it and step through.

Your soul will know.

© 2012 papaed


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Featured Review

Brilliant piece. In awe of your talent and the feelings your words provoke.
I just love how it so happens the poems I choose to click on when I have time to relax and enjoy, are poems like this that inspire and seem like " by chance" had nothing to do with it.

Thankful I clicked on this one! :)

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Dear papaed,

Yes! You know. You understand.

Why is this a difficult lesson? Why do people not think that they are mortal and can be gone in a whisper? A difficult lesson, I suppose. But it shouldn't be. I think people actually oppose this lesson. They don't want to acknowledge its truth. Life is hard. Death is harder and no one wants to hear this. A hard lesson that's important to learn.

Another powerful write. Another write greatly enjoyed. You've been gone too long, My Friend, from WC. We need your writing to make us strong.

Very best regards,

Rick

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Yup. I cried. That was my response. That along with this ACHE in my gut as I read every word.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This is extremely prolific and powerful. I think it is a major piece and brilliantly presented. Thanks.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


2
next Next Page
last Last Page
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

719 Views
13 Reviews
Rating
Added on May 3, 2012
Last Updated on May 3, 2012
Tags: accident, recovery, spiritual connection, child

Author

papaed
papaed

Kansas City, MO



About
no erudite pontifications, no complex extrapolations no intentional hurtful lies, just simple age-wise aliteration and prose, of a man who's in the throes of living day to day from his head down to.. more..

Writing

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..


~Flirt~ ~Flirt~

A Poem by Robbie~xoxo~