Thoughts
after a care home visit
Hello Dementia
There, there. What else can I say?
It will get better,
now, or later, or some other day.
Time and place have
slipped from reality’s grasp.
It doesn’t matter when
and where we are –
Peace is all I ask.
My peace, of course,
my comfort, and you try in brighter moments to comply.
You try to soothe me,
though you can only wonder why.
And I – well I am
learning as I sit in this plain place
Empty space
Bare of possibilities
for misinterpretation,
Shorn of objects which
may one day
Whisper love and on
another hate.
I am learning that
nothing is fixed.
There is no stability,
no reality
Only a reflection in
the mind’s eye
Distorted by the light,
Most of all by the
might of truth
Which pretends to stand
firm and square
But sits as do we all
on shifting ground,
On a merry-go-round’s
chair
That constantly alters
perspective.
Though life may jump
off to stand still and stare back
At our progress with
contemptuous indifference,
With no care.
And I reach out to
take your hand and kiss your cheek.
There, there.
Heather Gingele
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