IN POETRY: Mitzvah: Organ Donation
by Sister Lou Ella Hickman, I.W.B.S.
Sister Lou Ella Hickman, I.W.B.S., is a member of the Sisters of the Incarnate Word and Blessed Sacrament. She is presently a freelance writer and spiritual director. Her poems and articles have been widely published in numerous magazines as well as in the anthology After Shocks: Poetry of Recovery for Life-Shattering Events. Her first book of poetry, she: robed and wordless, published by Press 53, was released in the fall of 2015. slehickman@iwbscc.org
Sister Lou Ella Hickman, I.W.B.S., is a member of the Sisters of the Incarnate Word and Blessed Sacrament. She is presently a freelance writer and spiritual director. Her poems and articles have been widely published in numerous magazines as well as in the anthology After Shocks: Poetry of Recovery for Life-Shattering Events. Her first book of poetry, she: robed and wordless, published by Press 53, was released in the fall of 2015. slehickman@iwbscc.org
now it is called “recover”
when i first read it
i thought
recover? from what?
a cold? the flu?
then, recover stolen jewelry?
no disrespect intended--
but recover?
before that
the word harvest
i relished the idea
as a donor i imagined
my body a field of golden wheat
simmering with wind and sun
a jewish friend and i talked about it once
pikusch nehesh she said
“to save a life”
the world entire
with a heart a layer of skin a lung a pair of eyes
so someone might see through mine
recover then must do for now
for now my body remains a field its own world
until the day a farmer and his combine
will harvest wheat in a cold, white room
to nourish to quicken with life
another life a world entire
when i first read it
i thought
recover? from what?
a cold? the flu?
then, recover stolen jewelry?
no disrespect intended--
but recover?
before that
the word harvest
i relished the idea
as a donor i imagined
my body a field of golden wheat
simmering with wind and sun
a jewish friend and i talked about it once
pikusch nehesh she said
“to save a life”
the world entire
with a heart a layer of skin a lung a pair of eyes
so someone might see through mine
recover then must do for now
for now my body remains a field its own world
until the day a farmer and his combine
will harvest wheat in a cold, white room
to nourish to quicken with life
another life a world entire