This post is part of our collection of “Gold Nuggets” — our way of alerting the medical community to original artwork, poetry or multimedia that stimulate discussion and reflection.
If you have an original piece you think would make for good discussion by the medical community, you can submit a Gold Nugget by emailing firstname.lastname@example.org.
Ad Rimandum Et Videndum
The cord connecting you to mother won’t remain
and not a trace of all the sadness that you carried;
the myths with which you would ostensibly invent you;
proof of existence will be gone;
there won’t be left one single neigh or nay
or sigh you pressed upon your lover,
most probably the wind blew it away;
and nobody will notice scars the sidewalk
sketched upon your knee that afternoon;
the storm that felled the tree won’t be;
the words will go on running through space
after they jumped across your balcony,
the wind will blow them off as well.
If but a small corner your memory had claimed,
a lucky day, on anyone who dared to walk your side,
still no one could suggest that you, in fact,
one day, existed.
They’ll isolate your muscles
and free them from themselves;
they’ll feel the fabric of your bones,
their density, their holes; they’ll do the same
thing with your nerves, their paths they will observe
leading to stars, galactic clusters;
They’ll notice the differences in color of your
fragments compared to those in pages of a book.
After the cut, exact,
nothing is left of you, you see,
that is the pact.
1. What does this poem make you feel or think about? Which image resonates with you the most?
2. What does the author mean by “the pact” in the final line? What do you think is the importance of this pact?
3. The Latin title of the poem means “to investigate and remember”. What does this poem say about human nature? What does the author suggest about curiosity and memory? What roles do curiosity and memory play in patient care?