Late Lament

Breathe deep the gathering gloom,
Watch lights fade from every room.
Bedsitter people look back and lament,
Another day’s useless energy spent.

Impassioned lovers wrestle as one,
Lonely man cries for love and has none.
New mother picks up and suckles her son,
Senior citizens wish they were young.

Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white.
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?

Two days of recovery from retina surgery.  I felt delight when the bandage was removed, and the eye worked.  I could see.  My vision in the recovering eye is much improved.  This felt a miracle.  A surgeon’s skill, the knowledge contribution of thousands of past lives spent to gain insight into the human eye, and a hospital with the staffing and procedures to present a sterile operating room are wondrous in retrospect.  I am the beneficiary.  My vision is again that of a younger man.  I hope to have the right eye addressed by the surgeon in April.

Life is a fickle thing.  One makes an assessment only in retrospect.  What can one possibly know when one is in the middle of the quest, in the midst of the scramble for survival?  I look back, and despite seasons of abject darkness, on balance I have been unaccountably lucky.  Did I deserve the kindness of friends, the serendipity of meeting a good woman, who has been dedicated to making our marriage better?  Did I deserve the attention of professors who did everything they could to pass on to me their delight in discovery?  I cannot to fail to mention the therapists who dedicated hours, patiently putting up with my feeble incoherence, having faith that in time, my fragmented self would heal.  Luck, dumb, undeserved good fortune, — all of it.

I look back, as the years, the mileage grows by addition.  A well used, failing body is the lot of all of us.  The light fades inevitably.  I hope that I have enough wisdom to be gracious and welcoming to those who have not been as fortunate as I.

The poem is composed by the Moody Blues’ drummer, Graeme Edge.  It is often featured at the end of the song “Nights in White Satin”, written by Justin Hayward.