Silent Samantha Sunday.
To the friends we have recently lost…we will miss you.
Sending hugs over the Bridge,
Samantha & Puppydoc
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Tomorrow.
Cheer that blossomed withinĀ our hearts,
stirred byĀ your presence at each day’s start,
yearns to wilt when you depart.
But our song will sing again, tomorrow.
The smiles thatĀ pierced through saddened guise,
the rays which conquered thunderedĀ skies,
they ache to dimĀ neath heaven’s cries.
But the sun will rise again, tomorrow.
For many years our lives you blessed,
but the hour has come for you to rest,
to soar upon hills on golden crest.
So have no fear, tomorrow.
For on that day, I know we shall meet again.
ā¢
Ophelia.
Chant ofĀ thunder, orchestra of wind,
a breath of heart’s unrest.
Lightening flash in half moon’s glow
unearthsĀ laments repressed.
Raindropped streams upon herĀ face
masking moistened eyes,
lead her gently by zephyr’s call
into awaiting skies.
ā¢
I’m Sorry I Couldn’t Do More.
You took your life.
Iām sorry I was only
fifteen feet away.
The doctors were only fifteen feet away.
You didn’t know this.
But I spent days and nights
next door to where you decided
to end your life. Where the doctors
gather, pondering over differentials…
treatments…dissecting our every move
to ensure that we are doing the
right thing for you.
The right thing…
If I had known you,
I would have fought for you.
I know you werenāt my patient;
I know we had never even met.
I am just the person who found
you. Who pronounced you.
You were already cold,
but still, I placed the
stethoscope against
your chest and
listened.
I didnāt hear anything.
Did you hear me as
I wept for you?
Iām sorry.
I’m sorry
you were suffering.
Iām sorry you felt
as if you had
no way out.
Iām sorry I couldn’t do more.
ā¢
This is a reflection over an event that happened during residency.
An event I still think about at times.
A lingering guilt.
