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I Am Dying Aren'T I

i am dying aren't I there is no box in time where we can keep the truth the knowing within always betrays our deepest wishes the dying needs a hand to hold strokes across the forehead the feeling they are not alone with few words whispered i am here my love i am here my love no deeper softness can life give i am here my love it was in a white room father passed every nurse was dressed in white we watched his last breaths as that moment came to a conclusion i pulled my sisters into an embrace mother tugged his arm a parting gesture calling his name this was the finale of months trips to the hospital to share what in life we were doing as leukemia swallowed his existence our holidays together ended on that Thanksgiving years later God would call me from the soup kitchens and into the halls of the hospitals where i would see this occasion played out now and then my scrubs were powder blue with an angel above my heart i matched the walls nurses' scrubs were fields of flowers or an aviary alive in jungles sitting with them for lunch i often thought my dad would have loved the colors but more so the ending of life is not a sterile white room anymore OKC 9/22

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Joe Maverick

Date: 11/9/2022 11:58:00 PM

Hello i note the interplay with the sterile Containment offered by societys efforts And the greater possibilitys hinted at by The unconscious sub-awareness we are Touched by here in your musings on what Was around; you later Tim, this will inspire more From me, no doubt.'

Andrea Dietrich

Date: 9/16/2022 8:31:00 PM

I REALLY like this kind of poetry . you talk about wearing scrubs. Were you a nurse? A doctor? An aid? We come to think more and more on this topic as dear friends such as Connie pass away from us. FAVE

Timothy Ray
Date: 11/13/2022 9:19:00 AM

as far as Connie....Death is a moment of sadness but also a celebration on the Journey's end...my last poem is on a man who is dying and his job, prepare her...the final bed we come to is where you come with a modicum of sadness and should walk away with the richness of gratitude...you were blessed not only to gaze upon the universe, dance in the splendor of God given senses...and walk away knowing gratitude you were so blessed in that first breath with the gift of eternity....Andrea, God is amazing and the doors i walked thru left me spellbound in that magnitude....how else could i see in your poem on Autumn the love surrounding the experience in that car...for you

Timothy Ray
Date: 11/13/2022 9:09:00 AM

i wore the volunteer sky blue...i was simultaneously at 2 hospitals, 2 days for 4 hours at Sharp and Kaiser hospitals. at Sharp as TLC patient care under Imazelle and at Kaiser as Spiritual Care under Mary. both hospitals put me through chaplain training and Chaplain Debbie performed the Blessing of the Hands ceremony on me. i am not fond of theology but God presents doors and like Daniel you walk thru. it dawned on me much later what He was up to as doors closed to chaplains i could open because i can talk about the disputation between Bohr and Einstein, know the different didactical approaches of Marx and Hegel, Philo of Alexandria on parthenogenesis and how the lack of space and time in the quantum world opens up Spinoza's pantheism....i am also listed as a counselor on MedscapeWeb MD....in other words when God presents the door walk thru, trust, He will provide

Charles Messina

Date: 9/15/2022 3:35:00 AM

Every breath we take is one breath closer to our final day. When I do pass, I hope it's not in one of those rooms with white sterile walls (lol) Nicely written, Tim. Sorry about the passing of your dad. Keep writing my friend...Charlie

Timothy Ray
Date: 11/13/2022 2:40:00 PM

thank you, Charles....i have always felt for those who lose someone quickly, that emptiness they must feel without a "love you" so the prolonged passing of my father was an ordeal but in the scales of life....i prefer the long goodbye....my mother was the same, time for a room full of my old school chums to celebrate her birthday...her joke she had beat the system out of another month's paycheck...holding her hand as she passed....these types i consider myself blessed, than answer the door to a tragic passing