Thursday, May 24, 2018

Rumination



Inaudibly, a voice inside calls.  A long forgotten tongue crying out from the darkness of my soul. 

Probing, seeking, calling

Give life, redemption,  abundance, entirety, and increase
not  shortcoming, scarcity, destitution, want and loss. 

Altered time, spent milliseconds, bogged lightning. 
Confusion and despair reign.

I must dig deeper.   

A chance intersection with another and the essence of their light and dark flashes across mine.
Recognized agony triggers the evidence of our connection. 
Quickened expectancy
Electric delight
Temporarily water the desert of my soul.

Drops of life evaporate fueling the fires of madness and despair. 

Oscillations  of contentment and tribulation.
Is there an end? 

I scrape still at the promontory wedge separating me from life, redemption and peace. 

© May 2018
Duane Windell Phillips

Sunday, May 20, 2018

Untitled Poem



Appearing in a dream
A familiar presence
And more than you seem

Wanting me near
I cannot deny
I’ve nothing to fear

Embracing your soul
Sharing the warmth
Making us whole

© May 2018
Duane Windell Phillips

Saturday, May 19, 2018

Shorties: Number 58



During the drive, they avoided the elephant.  Paco was the reason for driving to the hospital.  Still, Ashley and Melinda, Paco’s first and second grade teachers respectively, didn’t want their feelings to get the best of them.  The youngest child from a family of immigrants, Paco timidly entered Ashley’s classroom for the first time last year.  He knew no English.  Ashley couldn’t comprehend how she could teach a child who didn’t share her language.  Little did she realize the intelligence and desire to learn housed in Paco’s small frame.

Melinda acknowledged the elephant first.  Choking back tears, Melinda stated, “He’s the smartest, sweetest little boy I’ve ever had in my classroom.”

“Me too.  It seems like he learned English in a week and then he was helping his friends with math.  He was the best behaved one in my class.”

“So many kids now are spoiled brats who need sound discipline.”

“You got that right.”

Then both thought it.  Only Melinda was brave enough to say it.  “It isn’t fair an eight year old gets cancer.  Especially Paco.  I don’t wish this on anyone but why him?  Why such a cute, sweet, smart little boy?”

Ashley sighed.  The question rocked her foundations.  She replied with the only words she knew at that moment, “I don’t know.”

With the car parked, the ladies retrieved balloons and toys from the car and started walking toward the hospital.  That morning, Paco had surgery to remove a kidney.  Doctors also removed a tumor the size of a newborn baby.  The incision was from his waist to the ribcage.  When the school staff was shown the post op photograph, astonished gasps filled the air.  How does a little boy endure such butchery?  It wasn’t that the doctors were poorly skilled.  Rather, the scar was grotesquely large across his tiny body. 

The elevator door opened and the teachers looked at the sign to reference the direction they needed to walk.  Toward the end of the hallway, they saw Paco’s older sister, Mariela.  She ran to the teachers and hugged them.  Fighting tears, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

Melinda replied with a smile, “We’re here to see Paco.”

The trio walked to the room and Paco’s mother,Lourdes, recognized the teachers and left her son’s side to approach them.  She said, “Thank you for come.  He sleeps still.”

Ashley said, “We had to see him.  How is he?”

“He wake but sleep again.”  Then she spoke to Mariela in Spanish.  Mariela said, “They removed his kidney and a large tumor.  They will inspect the tumor and let us know as soon as possible.”

Lourdes introduced the teachers to her husband and her parents.  Just then, Paco stirred and all attention was focused on him.  Lourdes held his hand saying, “Papito, papi, estoy aqui.  Tiene dolor?  Papi?  Paco, puedes escucharme?”

Paco didn’t open his eyes but started to cry softly.  “It hurts mommy.”

Tears fell down Lourdes’s cheeks as tears welled up in the eyes of his teachers.  Paco’s father and grandfather stood by stoically.  They were resolute against any weakness but were obviously broken.  The next hour was difficult for the teachers as Paco faded in and out of consciousness.  They wanted to talk with the lad and the family but conversations were difficult.  The parents spoke only basic English with Paco’s siblings serving as translators.  They had been in the hospital all day and, while concerned for their brother, were bored with the drudgery of sitting and talking. 

Once Paco was fully aware of his surroundings, he smiled at his teachers and thanked them for visiting him.  He also expressed appreciation for the balloons and presents.  Doctors and nurses entered, checked the lad and the incision, and advised the surgery went well.  There was a private discussion with the parents and a hospital translator. 

Finally, it was time to Ashley and Melinda to depart.  They each hugged the boy and kissed him on the forehead.  He thanked them again for visiting.  He added, “You’re my favorite teachers.” 

The rest of the week they found themselves hating the circumstances.  They loathed the unfairness of it all.  More than anything, Ashly and Melinda abhorred not knowing how it would end. 

Munich and Romania

This is the first of a multi-part series based on my observations from a recent Eastern European trip my wife and I took. In each I will sh...