Imagine Bridges

Connections, like bridges
run between us,
no matter how subtle,
nations and individuals
there is no divide

Imagine if we acted
in this knowledge –
mindful and kind –
not so subtle the outcome
I should think.

(Imagine Bridges first appeared here Sept, 2019. Image my own)

Cracking the Code

Adept at uprooting,
conditioned to follow chaos –
know my place there.

Kindness unsettles –
each ray piercing
cracking the crust

unleashing a prism
both painful and joyous –
legacy of dysfunction.

(Poem from Twitter @Vjknutson.  Image from personal collection.)



Grateful Pause (Paws)


I’ve been a grumpy lion,
lashing out in pain –
punctured shell smarting
by an objectionable barb.

I am a prideful feline,
with a formidable roar –
an offensive defense,
intended to intimidate.

Even so, you ventured near
and in a single act of good,
disarmed my furious outrage,
calmed this bellowing beast.

Like a mouse, you quietly,
with understated grace,
gestured with such kindness
I withdrew all complaint.

You restored my faith in beauty,
revived a nostalgic sense of bliss,
offered possibilities, sweet and
restorative;  soothed my soul.

And not, I have noted, without
self-sacrifice on your part;
I am not so egocentric
to have missed the cross you bear.

Your gentle demeanour prevailing
over my abhorrent rant,
is a worth a million thank you’s
to a wounded-heart cat, like me.

Kindness Not Advice Needed For Ill

What is it about illness that invites so much input from others?  Everyone has an opinion and seem somehow emboldened by my vulnerability to express it, as if they have suddenly become the expert on all things health-related.

Since my diagnosis, I have been counselled to exercise more, eat more meat, eat no  meat, get magnetic therapy, see a psychic,  see a shrink (as it is surely all in my mind), and seek a second opinion.  All offered with the best of intentions, I am sure.

One friend even called from her therapist’s office and said she was on her way to get me, as he was positive he could help me.  “He says that what you’re doing is not enough,”  she told me excitedly.  “He has worked miracles with me.”

I have no doubt that he has helped her, and I bite back my desire to tell her that both he and she are being unbelievably arrogant as they have no idea what my course of treatment is at the moment, nor any idea what I have gone through to get to this point.

Diagnosis of ME/CFS does not happen haphazardly.  It comes after a series of specialists appointments, eliminating other diseases, and adding up to this particular one.  In my case, it has been four years of doctors, and testing, and worsening conditions that have led me to this point.  In the meantime, I have also been working with therapists and experts to find healthy solutions – specific to my ailments!

What I want to tell others is that while I appreciate their concern, the discussions drain me, and while their friendship is treasured, I have to limit my interactions, so would prefer to not keep going over this sensitive subject.   Trust me that healing is my number one priority, and that I am making healthy choices for myself.

Take a page from my friend, Naomi, who arrived for a visit last Monday.

“I can only stay for a quick visit,”  she announced, then steered the conversation to a discussion about our mutual interest – grandchildren.  After a precise amount of time, she said she had to go, and added:

“I know you are doing everything you can to get better, and I know you will be successful.”

Uplifted by her visit and vote of confidence, I saw her to the door, then headed for the fridge to find something for lunch.  Imagine my surprise and delight to find a fridge full of fresh fruit, and a ready prepared dinner, plus a few other special treats.

In her unassuming way, Naomi brought me great comfort that day.   Her actions, not just her words, spoke volumes in support of my healing.