By a Sickbed, a Poem

When your loved one gets sick, translated…

I would truthfully swear

Of my willingness to juice up my own life then, send it into the drip that

Connects to my father’s veins

But, the Buddha was so silent, wouldn’t do anything—I———

I

I, I, where are my wishes?

There were people all around us

People crawling up the places like ants

Walking along on the heated edge of the wok

All lined up———

I’d drawn, a line of unbreakable boundaries

Only with the Gods and Buddha, on this side watching

As life slowly

Drips out

Drop, by drop

(And, isn’t the drip supposed to be sending life back into the body)

The sum of life in this world is seemingly getting lost, drip-by-drip, by drip

(and, only on this side of the sickbed, would you be able to observe this sharpened drop)

Only time, becoming the dawn hours

Waiting by my side, patiently until the very final bottle of drip

Drips dry

So, this, is watching your loved ones suffer in illness, there’s NOTHING you can do, to help alleviate the pains and sufferings of the one you loved, all you can do, is accompany by her/his side, helplessly, and learn to slowly accept, that death, is inevitable.

and no, still NOT my picture!