In the Flesh

                                                Nexus of infinity,

                                                My consciousness a galaxy,

                                                Each atom a solar system,

                                                I am an astronaut

                                                Exploring all that is.

                                                Elements that form my body

                                                Have ventured extravagantly,

                                                Have ranged for thirteen billion years,

                                                Coming to rest for a moment

                                                Within the boundary of my skin.

                                                Without moving, I am able to

                                                Trace that perfect pilgrimage,

                                                Project a future just as vast

                                                And return again to repose

                                                At home, embraced in flesh.

The story of my lymphoma and Fred's stroke, 1999-2000, is really a very small part of my 73 years and our 52 years together. It's absolutely miniscule compared to the journey described in the poem, taken with our Universe. Human life is precious beyond measure. Mystical imagination also.