The Wait

I struggle to stay lit

amidst the darkening of Wait's pull.

Images of cancer's insidious cruelty

follow me everywhere,

haunting me,

sadness constantly sneaking up on me,

terrorizing the little bright that remains.

I yearn to save him,

to shield his eyes from his withering,

to cloak him from the looks of pity,

to protect him from his dark thoughts,

to stop his pain for even a moment,

to hold him close without fear of breaking him,

yet I cannot.

I remain helpless in the shadows,

looking, but unable to see fully

the blinding pain of his suffering,

listening, but unable to hear wholly

the deafening despair of his whys,

feeling, but unable to absorb completely

the agony of his lost battle,

searching, but unable to save him

from the disease that now ravages him.

Lurking in the shadows of the little light that remains,

Wait holds me captive,

confident in the darkness that is to come.

What I cannot physically see and feel should make it easier, I think,

but it does not.

My mind has created the pictures

of his slow, awful descent,

of his anguished struggle to let go,

and plays them over and over,

relentlessly,

dragging me to new lows.

And, now, a new emotion,

guilt, has come to roost.

Why didn't I do more?

Talk to him more?

Coax out the anger?

Save him from festering in

the negative, pent-up emotions that feed cancer's seedlings?

Why didn’t I see this coming?

I am helpless in the shadows,

looking, but unable to see fully

the blinding pain of his suffering,

listening, but unable to hear wholly

the deafening despair of his whys,

feeling, but unable to absorb completely

the agony of his lost battle,

searching, but unable to save him

from the disease that now ravages him.

                Lurking in the shadows of the little light that remains,

Wait holds me captive,

confident in the darkness that is to come.

Work and sleep are my temporary escapes

from the black hole that threatens

to consume me,

welcome distractions

from the noise that daily victimizes my emotions

and slowly drowns the safe harbor that was once my thoughts.

They are the only sane moments left amongst the insanity of slow death.

I struggle to understand why anyone must suffer this way.

What must he be feeling?

What could he possibly be learning?

What is left when control and pride are gone -

when ego and sense of self no longer exist?

Is it only then that true humility can exist?

Is it only then that we are able to understand life's real meaning?

Is it only then, when we are our most broken,

when we have nothing but our soul left to give

that we can truly see,

truly love,

truly forgive,

truly be with God?

I am helpless in the shadows,

looking, but unable to see fully

the blinding pain of his suffering,

listening, but unable to hear wholly

the deafening despair of his whys,

feeling, but unable to absorb completely

the agony of his lost battle,

searching, but unable to save him

from the disease that now ravages him.

Lurking in the shadows of the little light that remains,

Wait holds me captive,

confident in the darkness that is to come.

I fight daily to send him my positive energy,

to surround him in comforting white warm light,

to love him so hard from afar that no amount of distance can keep that love from reaching him,

to pray for ease of his pain and suffering.

It is all I can do.

It doesn't feel like enough.

It isn’t,

yet it has to be.

I realize, now, there is a lesson here for me, too,

a lesson I already know, but must keep relearning.

Have faith.

Trust in the unknown forces at work.

Look for Light in everything.

Let go.

Let God.

Accept Wait.

Embrace what he is teaching.

Darkness cannot possibly win

against the forces of Love and Light.

Look for the Light.

Believe.

©Chris Colyer

February 1, 2016