Four poems on healing

By the river 

I sit by the river 
and watch storks 
and turtles, 
savouring every moment 
of what I’ll miss 
when I sink to darkness. 
Again, I’ll lose track 
of a day—maybe two— 
as in an anaesthetic haze 
of unconsciousness, 
I’ll graze, and maybe,
deal with subsequent pain. 
I will be back, I promise you, 
to hear the parrots squawk,
watch the otters play, 
to gaze at angsana blooms 
magic golden orioles 
to the skies. 
I will be back to bask, 
to watch the clouds fly 
holding rain like love 
that ties me to this life. 
I will be back, I promise you. 
I will be back. 

From my hospital bed 

There were no sunrises 
from my hospital bed— 
only white clouds floating 
in a blue sky with gold tints. 
There was the grey building 
that with boredom gazed 
at occupants as they lay 
in bed healing from pain. 
With pain, you deal 
in unqualifiable range. 
You never know 
if it’ll come again. 
You shut your eyes 
and imagine sunrises 
and sunsets, riding clouds, 
dwelling in the imagined world. 
The pain might persist. 
But it stops hurting a bit 
as opioid dreams colour 
shades of unreality. 

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Explorations 

I tried to make 
the whole world 
my home; 
all people, my own. 
A gypsy in spirit, 
I roam like the breeze— 
free, invisible, 
unstoppable. 
The borders of the body 
cannot capture the soul. 
We ride together — 
soul, mind and heart. 
My body stays tied 
to pain, disappointments 
and hurts, chained 
by mortality. 
Yet, a part of me drifts
unbidden across the universe. 
I play with stars, float 
on a cloud and waft. 
I stray exploring realms 
that stretch beyond the known, 
to unseen spaces, imagined, 
filled with infinite possibilities. 

Chrysalis 

Each time, 
A piece of me is cut, 
I delve into a dark, 
deep world. 
I never know 
if I’ll re-emerge. 
I live through a saga
of anaesthetised ennui. 
Yet, every time, 
like a chrysalis, I unfurl. 
I spread my wings again 
to explore a new world. 
It changes whenever I re-emerge— 
For me, it’s rebirth.
I lose time. 
I just want to be well again. 
Again, I want to forget this episode. 
I want to sing and dance 
each spring with daisies 
woven into rings. 
I want to travel 
beyond the horizon 
and invent new songs. 
I want to give to the world 
--to which I forever belong--
for my safe return every time,
miraculously, from under the knife. 
The journey through the haze 
changes me in some way. 
Each time, I have a new yearning. 
I grow new wings and soar…
Mitali Chakravarty wafts on a cloud where rests borderlessjournal.com. She sees herself an expert on survival and resilience after going through half-a-dozen surgeries.