On The Go- Over You

Spin me round,

Touch the ground.

Push me left,

Pull me right.

Tell me lies,

Hold back truth.

Speak your words quite uncouth.

Before our banter,

Spread your slander.

For I am quite over you.

-M.E. InkOwl

Breathe the Impossible

Gliding over this rippling silk,

Quicksilver becomes my woven garb.

Beyond with wind toss assurances come the clouds,

A veritable feast for the eyes and mind.

Open your eyes beyond what is,

And breathe in the impossible.

What’s left will be,

Think of it.

-M.E. InkOwl

A Wish

Close your eyes tight and imagine you’re here,

Between sage and these stones.

You smell the baked earth and drink in the silence,

Of a place older than your grandfather’s father’s home.

Listen close to the babbling creek and hear each word,

As water runs from high mountain snow.

Wish upon the very wind and come back to this, your hearthstone.

-M.E. InkOwl

Our Pond

Along this path well know to our feet,

We tread with deliberate pace.

Your hand in mine, our hearts as one,

Beating in time to this place.

How I love to see you with hair aglow,

In these rays of the setting sun.

Your smile so gentle and eyes so rich,

No wonder I want for nothing.

So hold you close as I always do,

As we walk the path round our pond.

-M.E. InkOwl

Awaken!

Quicken within,

Tap roots down deep,

Swell with nourishment.

Seek clouds on high,

And leaves so broad,

Thicken the stalks around.

Spring has awoken,

And so shall the dawn,

Let us renew our world once more.

-M.E. InkOwl

Of A Healer: Too Old

“I’m too old for this,” she moaned as we repositioned her body higher up in the hospital bed.

“You are not,” I said, looking her square in the eye.

Her eyes narrowed and a gnarled hand reached up to point a finger at my chest, “Boy, I’m 86 years old, I’ve got 15 great-grandkids, and I’m stuck in here fighting cancer. I’m too old!”

I gave a short laugh and said, “that’s nothing! I had a patient who woke up from surgery and asked where the hell she was, and what the hell we were doing in her room.”

“She was 96, and her family didn’t even bother telling her she was going in for surgery.”

My patient looked at me, mouth open in shock.

“You’re right,” she said, that’s too old.”

-M.E. InkOwl

Parenthood- Training

Shut the still-running shower.

Follow the drips upon the floor.

Feel the panic rise in your throat.

See the wet footprints leading to the door.

Open with eyes scrunched up in knowing fear.

Hear the squeal and statement,

“Daddy I peed in the toilet!”

Smile with pride.

This is parenthood.

-M.E. InkOwl

Of A Healer- A Conversation in Scrubs

“Why me?” he said with trembling hands, “when I am so close to dying?”

I took his hands so worn and kind and wrapped them in my own.

Licking dry lips he continued, “Someone else needs this so much more. I am just . . . me.”

“Why not you?” I asked looking in his eyes, “why NOT you? You’re human, you’re here flesh and blood. Who knows what we will do for you. Who knows what we will learn from you. ”

A sob escapes between those lips, “because I’m not worth it.”

I gently tighten fingers around those shaking hands.

“You are, and you will never know how many people you will help by being you.”

-M. E. InkOwl


Of A Healer is a series of captured moments from my work with individuals who are battling cancer. For a long time, these moments have been tucked away in my mind, too tender to share until now. Please enjoy each brief insight into the medical world.