A poem by Jamie Cirello, I wrote out for a friend who just found out her dad is sick.
The things you miss aren’t things that you even thought about, let alone thought were important.
The morning coffee run with your mates.
An accidental conversation with a stranger.
The walks between floors between meetings.
Ice cold water from the zip tap on a hot day.
Friday evening drinks in a noisy, crowded bar.
Winding down this evening, I sought comfort in a few words. An ancient quote. A contemporary poem.
I found this poem on LinkedIn, thanks to Susan Cain. Loved it so much I had to write it out.
Or will this drive us further apart?
Thank you Lynn Ungur for this inspiring verse.
The full text of the poem’s (because I know I could barely read my own handwriting ?
What if you thought of it
as the Jews consider the Sabbath—
the most sacred of times?
Cease from travel.
Cease from buying and selling.
Give up, just for now,
on trying to make the world
different than it is.
Sing. Pray. Touch only those
to whom you commit your life.
And when your body has become still,
reach out with your heart.
Know that we are connected
in ways that are terrifying and beautiful.
(You could hardly deny it now.)
Know that our lives
are in one another’s hands.
(Surely, that has come clear.)
Do not reach out your hands.
Reach out your heart.
Reach out your words.
Reach out all the tendrils
of compassion that move, invisibly,
where we cannot touch.
Promise this world your love–
for better or for worse,
in sickness and in health,
so long as we all shall live.