Meningitis
Black shadows on a white screen,
announce, in electronic holes,
that the silicon of my brother's being
is draining through a narrow neck.
What cruel God gives so great a gift
for so short a time?
As I cycle
the wheels are turned by salt water
through thoughts of birth and death,
until I arrive home.
Then electrons carry my eager questions
four thousand miles
and answers come
in my brother's voice
Headache, fever, coma comes
and electrial impulses dissipate
in viral convulsion,
my brother kicks me
and all the while his therapy is failing,
I am waiting alone, sleepless,
tortured
then hope arrives
bringing sister change and brother help
Slowly,dendritically,
my brother's mind recrystalises,
his thoughts coalecse,
until he writes to me again.
In bricks of pain
with mortar of doubt
I find that God has built
a city of gold
among the satanic mills
of my soul.
Can death demolish Jerusalem?
