I watched
With awed eyes
At the journey unfolding
As one slender ant
This tiny black speck
Traversed the depths
Of the vast unknown
Following the trail
Of a tiny, black speck

Mountains and peaks
To these two determined
The flesh of a chemist
To the eyes I called my own
Who was I to say
If it was just another hurdle
Or a journey to see the queen
In the castle missed by men

Deceiving the perceiver
Relieving the receiver
May we all start breathing
Just a little bit easier
Embracing the view
That indeed we are neither
A tiny, black speck
Nor some spiritual redeemer
But a creature of love
One faithful believer

She didn't ask me to breathe,
But I did. 
She didn't ask me to listen,
But I did. 
She didn't ask me to remain silent,
But I did.
She didn't ask me to pray for her,
But I did. 
She didn't actually ask me
anything. 
She couldn't. 
She was dead.
Yet, breath, listen, and pray I did,
 pausing amidst the 
silence to hear my heart beat 
with hers in Heaven.
For death, I discovered, is not 
the cessation of breathing.
It's actually just the
Beginning.

Our craft as healers is not to
Make our patients eat better,
walk more, or sleep more
Deeply
It is not a craft of medicines
Of supplements or herbal
Remedies
Our craft as healers, is one of
creativity, compassion, and
Curiosity
We are artists at heart
Seeking to construct spaces
So our patients can be healed
Showing them through
Silence
That truth sleeps with
Stillness
And wisdom can only wake
When we pause and start to
Dream

You are 
But a whisper
Set free from pursed lips
Dancing
For a second
With leaves from bare trees
Breathing
In a story
Made whole by its fall
Knowing
Through the telling
I'm alive in it all
So wake
From a slumber
To dream yourself free
You are
But a whisper
Now cease and just be