Playing Word Games

There is little in life so devastating as watching someone you love descend into the abyss of Alzheimer’s disease. Sadly, too many of us have seen a parent, a spouse, or a friend journey down this dark road. This Monday’s Poem of the Week reflects on the struggles of all those who are desperately trying to spark a glimmer of light in the memory halls of one whom they cherish. It’s a slowly losing battle, but one they cannot help but fight, even as the cruel enemy captures ever greater parts of the person they cherish.

Playing Word Games

I sprinkle hints,

seeds in the withering garden

of your brain,

hope words will sprout

blossom on your lips.

But deep in the gray-matter,

atrophy spreads like a biblical pestilence.

In that un-Eden,

hummingbirds dart,

like crazed syllables,

scatter alphabets

like fallen petals

amid stems of thought –

bare, but pretending to be

bright. Colors for flowers,

all I could expect.

All you could expect:

bright – colors – flowers

bare, but pretending

amid stems. Thought

petals fall,

like scattered alphabets.

Syllables unleash darts

like crazed hummingbirds

in that un-Eden’s spreading

biblical pestilence. Pushing up

through gray atrophy,

the blossoms on your lips:

hope. Will words sprout

in your brain,

green the withering garden

if I sprinkle enough seeds?

  • Susan Frances Martinello
This entry was posted in America, Death and Dying, Family, Health and wellness, Love, Medicine, Mental Health, Poetry, Thoughts & Musings and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Playing Word Games

  1. Ana Daksina says:

    Oh, my goodness. This is what poetry was meant to be. 🙏🌹

  2. Yes, Jorge, it is so sad when you have to realize that your loved one is on the slow road to oblivion. Many tears are cried, so much is tried. But we can do no more than take the loved one in our arms, hold them and accompany them with deep love into the darkness of oblivion.

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