Bill
As I read Bob’s poignant and heart-rendering poem regarding his wife, I reflect on my own life and time I spend viewing the currents of my own ocean – the same as that viewed by Bob, but many miles away. And my own feelings are quite different as I think about my wife—and as I sit by her on the deck of our ocean-side home. My feelings are not of despair; rather they relate to the blessings that seem to have been given to me in these senior years of my life. The poem I have written is responsive not only to Bob’s poetic rendering, but also to the recent “death-by-dignity” chosen by a good friend, who had been living with horrible illness. I am struggling with my own spirituality and find this matter of being blessed is part of the struggle.
I Am Blessed,
But Can I Acknowledge This Blessing
I am not a religious man
Though my friends say
That I am at least struggling
With my Beliefs.
I am Blessed,
But resist acknowledging
That I am Blessed
I sit on our deck
And look out over
The always changing
Inlet of the Atlantic Ocean
With tides flowing in and out
They Bless Me Every Day
Can I acknowledge
That I am Blessed
The rain fell gently yesterday
Forming a Rainbow over our Inlet
The sea, and sky, and sun and rain
Have formed a magnificent
Arch of color extending over our Inlet
Can I acknowledge
That I am Blessed
The sea birds and the forest birds
All congregate near our home
Chirping, squawking, clamoring
And soaring through the air
Providing an aviary show for me.
Can I acknowledge
That I am Blessed
