Morning Fog from the Fifth Floor

 

Yesterday morning the fog sat full on the head

like a bowler pulled down to ears and eyebrows.

I experienced it from the fifth floor of our building

looking out over roofs and treetops... a tower.

The clouds, unable to fly high, rested on the earth

where I breathed in their cool air and water vapor.

It was womb-like in the lack of light, enveloped by 

moisture, and hearing the heart beat of Our Mother.

I am a fish out of water in so many ways, having 

lost the routine of moon cycles and predictable waves.

I am too dry, not sure why, wanting to cry and water

the earth with repentance, to regain reconciliation.

Yesterday morning the fog sat full on my heart,

heavy hands rhythmically pumping up and down,

like a code had been called in this hospital on the 

fifth floor to try and bring me back to life.

***

A View from Above

 

The huge wrap-around windows in our Neuroscience tower offer a view of the Columbus cityscape off in the distance.  

This is especially true from the 9^th floor where I was seeing a patient today.  It always gives me pause, to stand and look out.

It reminded me of a recent conversation with my son who is a junior at the University of Dayton.  He in a sort-of existential phase.

He shared how wonderfully strange it is that thousands can live in a city in close proximity, all with their own unique lives.

In a very real sense it is a multiverse of beings who are physically self-contained but spiritually interconnected and intermingling.

I remember those days in my early 20’s when wider views and deeper thoughts shook up my small town perspective, changing me.

Sitting in Uncertainty

 

I’m learning to sit in uncertainty,

balanced on a rock 

in the middle of a roaring river 

that seeks to sweep me away.

It requires some degree of diligence

to find my center of balance,

to push back on the panic

when it tries to enter at the periphery.

The rock has deep roots in the earth,

a planet’s depth of gravity,

the raging water only at the surface.

I close my eyes and cling tight.

***