Postings of a Poet On a journey with Parkinson’s

DRIPPINGS
Postings of a Poet
On a journey with Parkinson’s

1. I’m not going to tell you

I’m not going to tell you everything is all right,
That getting a debilitating, methodically disabling
Chronic illness has made me a richer, better, more enlightened person,
That I’ve made peace with the war inside
Made friends with my enemies
Made love to my beloveds
Made a compact with my god
Made myself a man amongst men.
I have not.
I have not.
I have only stood shoulder to shoulder with my frailties
Leaned on them
Had them lean on me
Stood amongst the broken weeds
Bled
Cried
Picked up my bags
And carried them down the road as before
As before

There is a difference though
There is

The load is oddly lighter
When you can’t carry more
Less becomes you
Less and less becomes you
Not that you
or I
are less
Just that less truly is more
And that’s what I do have to tell you.
that less truly is more
drop a bag
drizzle a few drips away

in the end
not even skin
is worth its carry
worth its wait
or weight
in gold

shed even this
you garden snakes

the only load
I can discern
on the only road
worth its weight
in marigolds
is the abundant sparkle
of kindness—
As much to self as other—
And forgiveness,
The rich deep plunge of forgiveness,
To self
as much as to others

Not that I have forgiven
mind you
or been truly kind
I’m not going to tell you everything is all right
Remember?
Just that I can’t carry the load of so much loathing—
As much to self as other—
As I could before
And so it is the debilitating walk
That makes the walker lighter,
And so it is,
My condition—
My new friend and comrade—
that strips me of my stripes
And leaves me defenseless.
And so, given no choice,
I celebrate defenselessness
I defend it

Come let’s walk
talk
There’s dripping to do
And dripping to be done

Remember, I’m not going to tell you everything is all right