The distance from the top
Of the ladder
To the flat rock
In the path
Is proportional
To the pain.
I imagine the arc
Made by the top
Of my head
And the ground,
As in those too brief seconds
I flew earthwards.
There was no thinking:
It just happened,
And was over.
Lying there
On my back
In pain
Grateful
I could move my limbs,
I went over each inch
Of my body, asking,
"Are you okay?"
My head complained,
But missed the rock
By an inch or two.
I could crawl.
Later I could stand, walk,
But not without constant pain.
Pain, the not-so-gentle messenger
That we are earth-bound, gravity-lovers,
That no matter how much our spirits soar,
We cannot fly.
Ellen B. Rust
4/5/11
7 comments:
Owwwww! I hope you are okay or at least mostly okay. This sounds very scary!
I am mostly okay. VERY sore and bruised tailbone/buttocks. It was scary. I'm glad to be alive and that nothing is broken.
Ellen! What a shock! Hope you're ok and recovering quickly. Missing you.
Thanks, Dot. Recovering slowly, but recovering. I miss you, too.
Sooooo glad you were not injured more serioiusly....I hate to even think of it....I hope your recovery is swift!!
I love the poem, and the last two lines are sort of poignant, and also so true.
Ellen I'm glad that you're okay and recovering!
All right! Now I guess you got your "comeupence" for yelling at me about being on a ladder!
What on earth were you doing up there? Star gazing?
The nice thing about a poem is it only reveals what you choose --- to-- the bruises tell the rest of the story. Let's get together so I can see them and we can visit Ms. Catherin Soon! I bet she has a ladder story! Hugs,
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