Ten Minutes After and End

TEN MINUTES AFTER

Ah, ten minutes after my lamenting the hernia fate
the GP called, catching up at the end of the day, he
says it’s to be fixed by a surgeon, tomorrow I get the
report to start calling his office, my son laughing and
pulling my leg

His dad understood my earlier lament, now the ball is
rolling, time to do something about the hernia, started
when my son was ten, never told his parents while he
felt it, a small kid living in fear of cancer – if only he had
told us before – no harm done

As long as we can have it fixed, I am so glad - now
I can dance a jig!


WHERE IS THE END?

I am depressed and have no reason to be,
just a small operation after taking a sonar
my son’s hernia is to be fixed, so why do
I feel so restless; the GP promised to call

Of course he did not - I tried to translate
Interpol messages, found most of it so in-
comprehensible, no rational faculties left,
cannot express emotions, if I have any

How does one pass the time until it is clear
a beloved child is fine? - I think one has to
trust as directing attention to a desired out-
come will bring it about; but what of the time

Passing between the desire for his well-being
and his life being fine & tonight we can’t do
anything about it at all, time insists to stand
still; I KNOW he shall be healthy in the end

But all I ask is - where is the end?