Last week I spent a lot of time in a hospital, most of it waiting, with a friend. I fell behind on many things as a result, but I’m pleased to have found something to show for all those hours.
On the ward at Mercy Hospital
They believe they are caring for you as they attend the fading
needs of your body, wash you, move your hollowed
limbs. But in truth, it is you who ministers
to them: you are translucent, radiant with grace that streams through
your papery skin to bathe them where they stand, sheltered
beneath the powerful sweep of your wings.