Outside
in the blaze of summer
the barest hint of change
In the crescendo of cicada song
a whisper of waning
Almost imperceptibly
the shift begins
Inside
climate controlled
time suspended
Isolation
but not desolation
as inevitably, in life,
the shift begins
I walk the hospital floor
thinking that cicadas don’t know
Or do they?
Their song throbs loudest
in the summer sun that remains
This same sun that
casts shadows
where I must walk
also casts unexpected rainbows
at my feet.
lit bits and pieces 
Fran, I read your poem this morning in the quiet morning hours just before the sun rises and sensed the mournful tone that comes from hearing nature and watching the seasons pass. Love that you ended on an image offering promise and hope, a rainbow that glows despite the shadows life casts.
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Thank you for this beautiful message, Glenda. Seeing that rainbow in the shadows was a gift. Yes, mournful – excellent word choice. That’s exactly how I felt
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Your writing, as always, touches my heart. Thinking of you and your husband. How is he?
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Kathleen, you’re an angel. It’s the truth. You lift my spirits on every encounter. He’s in the hospital for another week or so, needs more heart surgery – but the prognosis is good! We are still wrapping our brains around it but also counting our (nearly countless) blessings. ❤️
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Those last lines – the darkness and the rainbows. They have haunted me since I read them this morning. My prayers go up for your husband’s health. Meanwhile, your words heal me in other ways.
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Thanks so very much for the prayers, Amanda. At the time of composing, I knew we’d reached a place of no return with his health. Life is altered and different; I wasn’t sure, yet, how altered and different. The glow of that rainbow on the floor buoyed me while I walked and waited to find out. I spend a lot of time now thinking about treasuring the moments we have … and celebrating that we do still have them!
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Hugs to you. The rainbow is such a hopeful sign.
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Thank you so much, Margaret, and it really is a hopeful sign.
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I was just explaining the isolation of the hospital setting to a friend, though in the more positive light of my volunteering time in the NICU. Your poem brings back the opposite side of that coin, the time I spent there as a parent. The rest of the world does seem to slip away, and you wonder how it all relates to the very important event going on within those hospital walls. You’ve captured that feeling eloquently. Sending hope for speedy healing for your husband.
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Many thanks, Chris. I’ve thought a lot about volunteering during our extended stay here. The whole support system in this hospital is tremendous. More surgery awaits next week but we’ve been so encouraged about recovery & outcomes. I can only imagine the depth of your connection in the NICU. What a true gift of the heart.
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