The Hospital Visit

Through an induced coma

I felt her presence.

She stood to the left of me

in all her honor, with Christ’s glory.

Her touch was mild

and warm. Loving.

There appeared with her

a warm glow, a kind of light.

Me, flat on my back –

An iron lung you might say.

And still, I kissed her

as I felt I raised her hand to my lips.

But, still, I kissed her, and

the rosary at the foot of my bed

prayed for me as my earthly mother

spared me a word, and said –

You could not have.

Your arms were strapped down

as in a cross of sorrow, for

I was at the doorstep of death.

I have wondered of these occasions.

Do they really happen?

And still, my parched lips touched

her hand in an instant

as if they had been pulled

to the warmth of her standing there.

I believe now, this mystery woman once foretold

was Mary, mother of Christ, my Protectress.

And now, as I believe, was also

her Voice of thunder heard as a teen

Who called me by name,

John. Not once, but twice.

I heard (Shamati).

The Power of God’s Voice as Woman –

These moments were as I encountered

deep within my heart, and

were required by my hurting

soul, left thirsty

gasping for the Absolute love of Christ

in what felt like, was my last breath.

I give thanks to the Holy One,

as a woman’s tender love became my truth.

And now, twenty years past, since’99 –

The spirits, of other women’s accounts

come close to my heart, women as

Rabia, Rahab, and Fatima…

All share their divine messages of Oneness –

rendering me the doorway – to a peaceful life.

And, the ecstatic encounter with God?

Whether in a deeply spirited awe

of silence, and cooperation – a divine bliss

has irrevocably swept me away, upon a

chariot of fire, I know dear One –

my life has not been destitute,

but filled with voluminous blessings

for a new kind of hope – through

the written words of my soul

sharing the experiences to render others the same hope.

We live between two dimensional windows of time, but

let us create a Third, where the angels sing,

And the glory of man, now

Becomes One with God.

Amen.

Published by John Gregory Evans

Poetry is truth as we share our words that express our stories. I have been writing poetry over twenty years and have been published within many venues, including two books of mine. As poets we speak our truths and become known by our words. If you are a poet...keep writing. There remains joy and love in the solace of the written word.

%d bloggers like this: