Monday, April 6, 2020

Gratitude Monday/The ghost of life: trying to fix up a human


Today I’m grateful for all the medical professionals who are literally putting their lives on the line to care for COVID19 patients—in addition to everyone else needing healthcare. These doctors, nurses, EMTs, physicians assistants, medical and nursing students, retirees and others are working grueling hours with little or no protection around the world—in rich countries and poor. I cannot imagine what hell they’re going through, but I send them all respect, admiration and gratitude for their caring and their courage.

So today’s National Poetry Month entry is by the Twentieth Century American poet, Anne Sexton. I don’t think it needs any introduction; it says everything.

“Doctors”

They work with herbs
and penicillin
They work with gentleness
and the scalpel.
They dig out the cancer,
close an incision
and say a prayer
to the poverty of the skin.
They are not Gods
though they would like to be;
they are only a human
trying to fix up a human.
Many humans die.
They die like the tender,
palpitating berries
in November.
But all along the doctors remember:
First do no harm.
They would kiss if it would heal.
It would not heal.

If the doctors cure
then the sun sees it.
If the doctors kill
then the earth hides it.
The doctors should fear arrogance
more than cardiac arrest.
If they are too proud,
and some are,
then they leave home on horseback
but God returns them on foot.




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