Read Time:2 Minute, 37 Second
Emotion Tactile
Picture the masses of data transferred by a single touch
We'll separate them to strata and come to sense with some luck
First a touch so tender, at once testing and then assured
Proving that hard hearts can render, with hope for aching cured
Next a touch meant for harm, using physics as means for control
That causes the body great alarm, and at time contracts the soul
We come to a touch of play with a wayward jolly jest
That pushes insecurity away and oft feels the best
A hand that serves as a guide to bear a stranger land
That over your safety presides by the comfort it commands
But let this guidance fester and it becomes a noose
The leech's grip yields lesser, rarely letting loose
Now a quicker tap with vigor meant to catch your heed
Not meant to mimic rigor but for urgency and need
Then a primal touch of lust that borders on a squeeze
And when consent is in the trust it is quite nice - more, please
A sting touch that travels fast, the air around it with a hum
That seems to outstay its forecast, and cause a feeling numb
A waiting touch that falters off, and wonders whether it should stall
Maybe I should start soft? Or maybe touch not at all
From Your Beloved Dead
I am what you just lost
Piercing as the winter's frost
Boiling, as the sun's sizzle
That into death I have crossed
Hear me in the wind's whistle
In winding train, through October thistle
Hear me in the birdsong morn
Coursing through short slopes' bristle
See my soul in sun reborn
By greedy light tho' Summer storm
Animating the pastures green
Casting sight to a heart torn
Smell my sweetened clementine
Blossom by the wintergreen
Basting phlox below, Earthen-laced,
With spicy pine, their spindles lean
'Member how we'd often taste
A simple spread of berry paste?
A steal of honey, mouths concealed
For fear the bees would see our waste?
Feel my heart with feet annealed
To trembling ground grasping at your heels
All the while in mossy glade
Two hungry ants feel for their meal
Truest unity death forbade
Lest we travel retrograde.
Stayed are we with nature sense
Hark'ning the elusive driade
Must this be some recompense
For deeds in life without defense
Our lives not together tossed
Doomed by the bird to share in tense?
Weeping Falls
I cannot sing a song today
My mouth runs dry and words go grey
Though the source provides more'n it should
A callused light is made to stay
I cannot show my streams of good
Through wispy hair and crumbling wood
As raging tide rips o'er my brim
And man explores all that it should
I cannot babble brooks but grim
A spiny network once so trim
From mount and ledge hovered so steep
As stool and fossil burn to Him
I cannot still my watered keep
At sight of all these creatures' sleep
And water falling to my bay
It is for us - and them - I weep.
Andre Bshara is currently a resident physician at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center (UPMC), specializing in Internal Medicine and is soon to graduate to join a fellowship, where he will train in Pulmonary and Critical Care Medicine. Andre’s medical focus lies in providing critical care in global and refugee settings; his interests include reading, going on philosophical rants, and beating his brother at video games.
