When Words are not Enough (I.P.)

‘Lights of Love’ – burning
on a hospice tree, as they did,
each year; star-bright, they shone
for someone special, long-gone
from there.

But presently, the stage is set –
metaphorically speaking; tension
mounting. A radio recording,
to be broadcast on Christmas Eve
from their little chapel.

Staff, and patients gather round...
families and friends. Bowls of punch,
and mince pies... but I’m petrified.
Can’t eat a thing; all atremble –
my throat, dry as the Kalahari.

“Don’t worry. She’ll be fine,”
the nurses try to reassure me,
topping up my glass with still more
sparkling wine.

And there she is – script in hand;
steady as a rock; dressed in red.
A Leo, through and through; such
a fighter! Luke, Chapter Two, Verses
one to nineteen, begging to be read...

“Calm down, for goodness sake!”
she says. “Who’s reading this?
You, or me? ‘Mind over matter’ –
isn’t that what you taught us kids?”

And read she did. Her voice –
so strong, so clear – belying
the turmoil inside.

For the past twenty years,
she’d grown tired – weary
of all who’d come with words;
words, but no language.

There are no figures of speech –
no metaphors, hyperboles or similes,
in Mandarin, Urdu, or double Dutch;
nothing anyone can say, makes any sense
to a nineteen year old, told they have
incurable cancer.

***

Not the words she read,
that afternoon, three years ago,
I remember...Just her courage,
when she spoke them.