The graying, gaping sky is split
Each side a stretch of sunset lit
Across the glazing blue-green sea,
Upon the snow and back to me.
The cityscape between its jaws
Is slowly steaming as it thaws,
And raising eyes to what may be
A beauty born from tragedy.
Like shards of ice on rocky floors
Replacing smooth and sandy shores,
Or haggard limbs of crumbling brown
Replacing summer’s leafy down.
Or hearts grown cold from recent harm
Replacing those still young and warm,
Fragmented pieces of a soul
Replacing one still strong and whole.
Why are these raw and barren things,
So welcome in their wanderings,
How can such sharp and damp despair
Still lure us down and keep us there,
To slowly suffer life’s full force
Despite the writhing of remorse,
While we lie still in winter’s wake
And wait for gathered clouds to break,
To burst with warm and lustrous light
And dust the darkness from the night.
Filed under: lyric poems, medical school | Tags: lyric poetry, medical school, poetry
We may not remember that feeling of fear
That stirred in our stomachs on our first day here.
Or the raw recognition of our own defeat
When we first held a heart that could no longer beat.
We may not remember the rods and the cones,
The ethmoid or sphenoid or palatine bones,
Each circumflex, neural crest, ramus or rectus,
Or each tiny branch off the cervical plexus.
We may not remember each page that we read
About trochlear nerves causing tilt of the head,
Or the pathways that every red blood cell must take,
Or which kind of fall leads to which kind of break.
We may not remember each sulcus or groove,
Each longus or brevis and how they all move,
Each pterygoid, coronoid, cristae or carpal,
Which tendons attach to the first metatarsal.
The dermatomes, myotomes, orbital veins,
Adductors, extensors or quadrants of pain.
Nights spent with books somewhere no one could find us
To learn just what ends at the pez ancerinus.
But no matter how long it has been since the days
Of Moore and Persaud or Netter’s and Grays,
We will not forget how we all got our start
And the honest investment of those who took part.
And we’ll surely remember the sacrifice made
for foundations of knowledge and truth that were laid,
How these generous strangers were brave to instill
A trust in our touch and a faith in our skill.
How their deepest respect for the field we adore
Will bind us, remind us to always do more,
And the way they inspired us all to pursue
Greater meaning and purpose in all that we do.
