the birds were still dreaming in trees as
the pale moonlight prepared to flee the
first threat of a reluctant dawn, the night
is fading and with that I and my lungs
dress to visit the corridor of replacement
parts, put on the mask of bravery, strum
the golden lyre and sing honest songs on
the largess this life offers, the true gift of
a new organ, push the reset button with
the death of another poor soul, salty river
of grief delivering joy to my family and
we meditate on the mutable nature of fate
and justice, why am I so lucky? Tell Me –
as we sign, co-sign, and have witnessed
a contract from patient and her caregiver,
we will love, honor and follow directives for
the maintenance of said precious organ, we
do solemnly swear in signing our agreement
legal and bound with hope, stamped with
gratitude ~ I swear, I swear, I – one day
to be a Franken-Woman, eh? – when death
gives us life and breath comes with the
complicated maze of IVs and intubations
medical carts anointed with the holy water
of a disinfectant and this isn’t the old age
I dreamed of but peace reigns, my house
came with limited warranty and life in the end,
as in the beginning, has its mixed blessings
Note: As it turns out, I haven't had to have a lung transplant. If I don't have one by the time I'm seventy - not long now - then they'll take me out of the transplant program and therein lies my hope and joy for this day.
Be happy. Love, Jamie xo
© 2008, poem, Jamie Dedes (The Poet by Day) ; 2016, illustration, All rights reserved
