Mary Remembers (Palm Sunday)

Posted on April 14, 2019 by Becka Choat

However long I live, I’ll not forget
the wondrous things that happened here today:
the most extraordinary man I’ve met,
astride a donkey, redolent of hay;

the people thronging ’round him as he rode –
so many we were near crushed in the fray –
till Peter left the Master’s side and strode
into the crowd, demanding they make way.

A moment’s quiet; then a growing hum
that swelled to shouts, “Lord, hear us when we pray!
Hosanna, our deliverance is come;
our God has sent His righteous one to save!”

The men laid down their cloaks along his path,
and children waved palm branches as he passed.

~ Rebekah Choat

Dr’s appt (NaPoWriMo 2019/8)

Posted on April 13, 2019 by Becka Choat

Ok, a confession. I actually wrote this one a bit over five years ago, right after being diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis (RA to the initiated). But only one other person has ever seen a draft of it before now (miss you, Ros), and it fits the jargon prompt to a T. My apologies to the shocked; your regularly reserved Rebekah will be back after this brief msg.

Oh, yeah?
You write down that I’m damaged –
RA, mod to sev –
then hand me a fistful of Rx
and a card that says,
“Come back 2 wks, f/u.”

You’ve taken note of my DOB, SSN,
TxDL, Member ID, and Group #,
as well as my ht, wt, temp, and bp.

You’ve sent me to the lab for
C-RP-IH, CCP IgG/IgA-LC, and HLA-B-LC;
then on to X-ray: SI jts, 2 vws.

Don’t waste words on the pt;
you don’t have to – you’re the MD,
this is your SOP, your MO.

Well, fine. See ya,
2 wks, f/u.

~ Rebekah Choat

Simple Gifts (NaPoWriMo 2019/7)

Posted on April 13, 2019 by Becka Choat

Relief from pain, and
a sweet, strong, hot cup of tea:
simple gifts are best.

~ Rebekah Choat

Arcana (NaPoWriMo 2019/6)

Posted on April 13, 2019 by Becka Choat

We all know magic words now:
please and thank you we’re taught in pre-school,
and go on to hocus pocus, open sesame,
accio, expelliarmus; charms and curses,
names of gods and angels. Only the strongest
ones retain great power, and we forget:
Amen. Yet. If.

~ Rebekah Choat

By the Sea (NaPoWriMo 2019/5)

Posted on April 11, 2019 by Becka Choat

It was many and many a year ago –
seventy-five or -six summers or so –
near a cluster of cottages by the sea;
I can picture it still in my memory.

I was a child, and she was a child,
and I was solemn, and she was wild,
but we loved with a love that was more than love,
mixed with salt and the sea and the sun above.

We lived through that summer in fairy-tale land –
two sunburnt princesses, hair full of sand.
Then our mothers packed up, and we left with the tide
for our distant home-places; she howled, and I cried.

I waited the next year, but she never came;
and I’m never quite sure I remember her name.

~ Rebekah Choat