Arts Medicine for Hope & Healing Initiative Founder and Director, Diane Kaufman, MD
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Three Objects Spoke to Me

4/29/2018

2 Comments

 
Picture

The bird was flying in the darkened night. All around was silence, silence. The young girl who did not know she was an angel, held a garland across her chest - a heart, a crescent moon, a star. She was walking alone on a path. She did not know her destination.

She raised up her eyes to see the moon. To her astonishment, there was no moon to be seen. In its place a beautiful red rose blooming in the sky! And the air was filled with such fragrance! And petal after petal floated in the air, gently caressing her. The flower moon kept opening and opening. The girl began to cry. She had never felt such beauty. 

Certainly she had seen beauty before. But feel it? Feel herself become part of the beauty seen? No. That was a rarity. It took her breath away.

She wondered, "if I exhale will it all vanish? I don't want the flower moon to go away." 

She closed her eyes. "Let this be the only thing I see. My only memory. If I open my eyes again will it still be there?" 

"Should I tell someone?" she asked herself. "What if they disagree or call me foolish or doubt my sanity? What if they claim the vision for their own? Will I be left with nothing?" 

She was alone but for the darkened sky, the blooming iridescent rose moon, the petals falling, the garland's heart, crescent, and star, and the path that was yet to be.

"Maybe I shouldn't move." 

"Maybe I should stay still and silent."

"If this is magic and has meaning - what is it? Do I deserve it?"

"If there is no magic and no meaning - what then?"

The girl sighed. She looked up again.

Flower moon.
Falling petals.
Bird flying.
Darkened sky.

No knowing what to do next, she fell asleep. Was she lying down or standing up? She never could remember. 

She slept and slept. An eternity of flower moons and flower petals. Finally she had the dream she was seeking. The dream she would carry inside her - awake - for all the rest of her days. 

The flower moon was the rose of her heart. 
The petals the love she shared.
The bird flying her spirt's call. 
The silence the worship in her soul. 
The garland her protection from not knowing.

That was so long ago and this is the first time I am telling her story. 

Diane Kaufman, MD
Words for Healing workshop
Legacy Good Samaritan Hospital
​Portland, Oregon  
April 28, 2018 



  

2 Comments
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12/6/2019 04:28:49 pm

This is a very deep poem, and it inspired me to do better with my life. If you ask me, thinking about what you want to do in life is a bit hard. I mean, one crucial mistake is all that you need to go and end your life. I think that people do not understand the gravity of making a wrong decision in life. I am scared to make a decision that would create a massive regrettable memory for me.

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12/30/2021 09:48:57 pm

This is a profound poem that has motivated me to improve my life. If you ask me, deciding what you want to accomplish with your life is difficult. To put it another way, all it takes is one critical error to terminate your life. I believe that most individuals are unaware of the seriousness of making a poor decision in life. I'm afraid of making a mistake that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

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    Author

    As a child, Diane Kaufman wrote in her grade school composition that when she grew up she wanted to be a "medical doctor or a medical drawer." Her passion as expressed in poetry, story, and art seeks to inspire positive transformation, to help "humanize" our life experiences, to increase our connection with each other, and bring awareness of Arts Medicine as valuable in promoting and nurturing health, healing and well being. 

    Dedication:
    ​I write this blog to express and release my thoughts and feelings, to heal myself and others. The world is full of suffering. I want to do my part to heal the despairing wound. I want to do my part to comfort the crying baby, the lost child, and the all too often hurt and hurting adult. I have named my Arts Medicine for Health & Healing blog, Poetry Baby, and she calls upon me to give voice and share her spirit: to write, create, be courageous, and most importantly, to have abiding faith in the Almighty Mystery and Power of the Universe to spin the world into loving care and compassion. Our hearts and hands can make this be so. 

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