I Wish it Had Been You

I wish it had been you
That had sped the plough
And sowed the seed
And harvested the soul
Of my memories of you

But alas it is I
To lay my hand upon your furrowed brow
And wash the aching loss of a grieving heart

It is the nurse and doctor and I and you and my brother, sister, father and lover . . .
that speeds the morphine,
that slows the heart,
to ease the pain
of love torn apart

I wish it had been you
But it is me and it is you and you and you
That plants the ground,
Upon which love grows.

I wish it had been you.
I wish it had been you.


September 2012
Written at a workshop on Palliative care by the Metta Institute.org