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Fury Road and faith healing

20 May

The tiny silver crucifix she woreScreen Shot 2015-05-20 at 12.12.11 AM
enacted what it seemed we did to her.

She rested in the bed, not at peace yet,
she said, but trying to forgive. The dead

moved quietly around the room, unseen:
last week, a man with liver cancer keened

where she did now, before he passed; then
another woman whose lymphoma drenched

her in cold sweats, her lymph nodes thick and massed
wherever I had pressed. “Dear Lord,” I said,

attempting what I thought was prayer, “—Lord
forgive me for not healing them.” Unsaid,

the words of her forgiveness came to me
like kindness, like a sudden memory.

The tiny crucifix refused to bleed;
instead, it shone there like a misplaced need,

a way to understand the blameless night.
Adjusting my ophthalmoscope’s light,

I peered inside her, seeking what we may
of pain. I saw what she had tried to say:

the pulse of blood, the silence of my heart;
forgiveness, not impossible, but hard.

~ Rafael Campo from Alternative Medicine

Few poems have stopped me in my tracks.
Physically. Emotionally. Viscerally.
This one did. does.
What a fascinating juxtapose.
Campos and Rockatansky.
Fury Road and Faith Healing.
Max haunted by the faces of family he could not save
The haunting driving him to keep moving moving moving
to ultimately at least save
someone.
I know this.
I’ve never successfully left the room
still there
still seeing the serene face
of the Girl.
Lips now still that should be pursed in a taunt.
Now they just haunt.
You didn’t save me.
You didn’t say the words.
Could I have said them?
And he came and touched the bier
But I let it pass
The bag not yet sealed
But I let it pass
The body now dust on the shelf, waiting
But the face, it haunts, it tauntsmad-max-fury-road-trailer-343x215
You didn’t save me
The face driving me
keeping me moving moving moving
to ultimately save

someone.

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3 Comments

Posted by on May 20, 2015 in haverings, Poetry

 

Tags: , , , ,

3 responses to “Fury Road and faith healing

  1. Eric S. Donahue

    May 24, 2015 at 1:47 am

    I love this poem (and the physician-author is a favorite). But even more do I love the passion you took from it, making it your own. You are very much like a physician, Pastor Mike, though you do not treat patients with science or medicine. No, rather you stay by their side as they suffer, giving them a hope of something very different. Something not of this world. Something beautiful and brilliant. And with your words, your prayers, your love–you heal others in a different way. This inspires me to bridge that gap in my own life and career. I love your words and I love the wisdom that they impart. Thank you, my very good friend.

     
  2. wordhaver

    May 24, 2015 at 4:25 am

    So glad, Eric! And glad you are who you are and are doing what you are doing!

     
  3. Gloria Houting

    June 4, 2016 at 12:19 am

    Reading this……makes my heart…….bleed.

     

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