I came across this poem in the Writers Almanac the other day. I am always amazed at how poets can slide so seamlessly from the profane to the sublime. Young Man Lighting Up
by Raphael Kosek The young man paused
just long enough
to cup his hand lovingly
around the cigarette
lighting it before stepping out
into the clench of four-lane traffic
weaving his way
among us as I watched him
slim and confident, bent
on reaching the store across
the street, careless with the surety
of youth, and I can only assume
he reached his destination
as I didn't hear the screech of brakes
or bray of horns as the light
turned.
The following
day I recalled him
with longing,
something connate,
and he grew
in significance because
it was so insignificant—precisely why
I kept seeing him
doing what we all do
cupping our hands
around the thin flame of something
we nurture for good or ill
as we step into the world's
thrash—confident, fully believing
we will reach
the other side.
A palliative doctor honouring the 'unfinished business' of the dying and speaking to the many times people received comfort from the dead while dying. -- Such a relief that instead of using the word 'delirium' he uses the word illumination . . . . . https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rbnBe-vXGQM
This morn woke to alarm, as I had an early appointment. Jumped out of bed, did not get my 1/4-1/2 hour transition time. Took a long time, maybe all day, for the fuzzies to wear off. Take a notice, next you are in this situation. ~ Coma wise, trying to shake or alarm people out of altered consciousness can have a deleterious effect, in my experience if they are not ready to awake.