Beyond the Pain

I thought I’d finally figured out a way to end the severe pain that’s been grinding me down for the last 40 days.

I was wrong … again!

The challenge is that I’m really not sure just what’s causing the pain. No question the exceedling damp, cold morning air triggers the pain. And, once the pain has been triggered there seems little I can do make it go away.

By noon the pain had become to much and I could no longer force myself to work. So, I went to bed and napped for 2 1/2 hours hoping that sleep would ease the pain. Often it does. It didn’t!

Now is that because a thunder clap awakened me too soon? Damned if I know.

Sometimes a soak in hot water, saturated with Epsom salts (Magnesium Sulfate) helps. Didn’t today.

Sometimes sex helps. Didn’t today.

Sometimes a good brisk walk helps. Didn’t today.

Sometime a glass of wine helps. Didn’t today.

Sometimes acupuncture helps. Ain’t helping so far.

No drugs I’ve taken have helped permanently.

It helps to distract myself from the pain. That’s one of the appeals of Facebook and Twitter and other Social Media sites where I can socialize and forget myself.

But, god would I love a Silver Bullet!

Except there ain’t one.

Erato

This pain will be

The death

Of me:

Yet.

Its vibrato

Thrumming

Through my bones,

Muscles, and sinews;

Crushing bones

And

Sprit, Soul.

Till no longer

Have I

The Courage,

The Faith,

The Hope,

The Will,

To persist.

Yet,

I must.

For she calls

To me,

Her siren song

So clear.

She Calls,

Summons,

Promises,

Teases,

Tantalizes,

Provokes,

My need.

She Calls

And

I must follow.

She Calls

And

I must obey.

She Calls:

For in me

Is She

And

If I quit,

Die;

Then

So shall She.

For She

Is me

And I am

Her;

And She

Is but

The best in me,

Hidden,

Calling,

Needing me

To Champion

Her.

For She

Is my Muse;

My Erato.

And

She must speak,

And Write,

And Sing,

And

All Her glory

Claim.

So,

I persist

Despite the fears,

The pain

That sickens me,

And

Wait eagerly

To hear

Her siren voice,

Her Call;

For therein lies

Mine own

True Destiny.

– – –

Erato is the Muse of Lyric poetry.

Copyright 2009 Lyle T. Lachmuth, All Rights Reserved