Saturday, August 22, 2015

Each comfort we manage... (Mark Nepo)


  I think each comfort we manage -- 
each holding in the night, each opening 
of a wound, each closing of a wound, each 
pulling of a splinter or razored word, each 
fever sponged, each dear thing given 
to someone in greater need -- each 
passes on the kindness we've known. 
                       
For the human sea is made of waves 
that mount and merge till the way a 
nurse rocks a child is the way that child 
all grown rocks the wounded, and how 
the wounded, allowed to go on, rock 
strangers who in their pain 
don't seem so strange. 
                       
Eventually, the rhythm of kindness 
is how we pray and suffer by turns, 
and if someone were to watch us 
from inside the lake of time, 
they wouldn't be able to tell if we are 
dying or being born. 

--Mark Nepo, The Rhythm of Each
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