It seems inevitable in certain demographics that news of loss and major illness amongst those who are close to us erodes the confidence we have in our own futures, creating reminders that we all live under the sword of Damocles. Out of these memento mori moments comes the following for our Monday Poem of the Week.
Dandelion Seed
You left like a dandelion seed,
blown by winds over which I had
no control, though I desperately
hoped I might. Like all fathers,
I wanted you settled in fertile soil,
so you might reach your full potential,
creating your own seeds to scatter into
future bloom, the results of which I
may never see.
I had hopes you would find your spot
nearby, so I could see the flowering you
produced. How vain and deluded are
our dreams! Yet, I am comforted by knowing
that you have found good soil into which you
have placed your own tokens of immortality
in the only manner available to any of us. May
the sun shine and the rains nourish all that
you have produced even as my own roots
begin their inevitable decay.
Copyright © 2022 by George Ferenczi
Medico Musings 