the purifier We don’t ask for it ever yet, like weather, it shows up moves in We bear the flame, breathe through it while scrambling for solutions Bracing intensifies it but pain met, unflinching becomes heat, pressure pulse—sensation with no name nothing else in the room
Subhash, I appreciate your words so much. This is physical pain, in my case. May have ruptured a cervical disc.
I grieve for your family's loss. And I apologize--I read your poem title as "the purifier," not "the pacifier"! I thought we had, at the same time, titled two poems the same!
Thank you so much, Amrita. No apology needed at all—I actually smiled when I realized the "purifier" and "pacifier" mix-up. 😊
I'm so sorry to hear you're dealing with such severe physical pain. I hope the doctors are able to give you both relief and healing soon.
Thank you, too, for your kind words about Arnab and my family. Your compassion means more than you know. Wishing you comfort, courage, and brighter days ahead.
This is a beautiful poem, Amrita. It doesn't resist pain or explain it—it simply stays with it. Thank you for sharing something so deeply felt.
As you know, I recently lost my only nephew, Arnab. Your poem reached me at a time when pain has been sitting quietly beside our family too.
Wishing you comfort, strength, and gentler days ahead.
Subhash, I appreciate your words so much. This is physical pain, in my case. May have ruptured a cervical disc.
I grieve for your family's loss. And I apologize--I read your poem title as "the purifier," not "the pacifier"! I thought we had, at the same time, titled two poems the same!
Sending comfort and courage,
Amrita
Thank you so much, Amrita. No apology needed at all—I actually smiled when I realized the "purifier" and "pacifier" mix-up. 😊
I'm so sorry to hear you're dealing with such severe physical pain. I hope the doctors are able to give you both relief and healing soon.
Thank you, too, for your kind words about Arnab and my family. Your compassion means more than you know. Wishing you comfort, courage, and brighter days ahead.
Ah yes - what would we do without father sun. Purification welcome.
I'm in terrible physical pain. May have ruptured a cervical disc.
That sounds really painful. I am sorry to hear it.