Thursday, July 2, 2015

Imagine This!

Imagine this!  I was feeling sorry for myself today, tired of the pain and impairment my injury has visited upon me, when my husband sent me this poem that was read on NPR's The Writer's Almanac this morning.  It was just what I needed to ponder to lift me out of my funk, reminding me that, despite my own narrowed choices,  I may still dedicate my heart to such wonders as "red . . . berries in the snow."  And other wonderful things.




Imagine This

When you’re young, and in good health,
you can imagine living in New York City,
or Nepal, or in a tree beyond the moon,
and who knows who you’ll marry: a millionaire,
a monkey, a sea captain, a clown.
But the best imaginers are the old and wounded,
who swim through ever narrowing choices,
dedicating their hearts to peace, a stray cat,
a bowl of homemade vegetable soup,
or red Mountain Ash berries in the snow.
Imagine this: only one leg and lucky to have it,
a jig-jagged jaunt with a cane along the shore,
leaning on a walker to get from grocery to car,
smoothing down the sidewalk on a magic moving chair,
teaching every child you meet the true story
of this sad, sweet, tragic, Fourth of July world.
“Imagine This” by Freya Manfred from Speak, Mother. © Red Dragonfly Press, 2015. Reprinted with permission.  (buy now)

5 comments:

Carolyn H said...

Beautiful! And so true. I'm a gimpy walker, too, but I'm still going!

threecollie said...

Wow, that is just lovely and so very true

Raining Iguanas said...

Just what the doctor didn't order--but should have.
Thanks for the drink of reality, it sure did hit the spot.

Wayne said...

Lovely. Our "ever narrowing choices" are still plentiful!
Not so long ago when you wrote of summer's last hike, I imagined you would be in a wheelchair, then behind a walker, and by fall leaning on a cane. How delightful it was to see the photo of you joyfully hoisting a cane in the outdoors only three weeks after surgery! "Only one leg and lucky to have it" reminds me of the hundreds of times my mother would tell me "I cried because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet." I hope the pain and drugs will both diminish soon, so your choices will once again be as broad as you can see.

catharus said...

So true!!!
Prayers and blessings to you!