With practice kids bend beams of light to burn their names in cardboard
Excited glee when smoke they see, their patient work rewarded.
So now my path leads on into the beams converging sizzle
When tumor, patience, skill and light
All meet there in the middle.
The welder’s heat can cut or build, its use lays out its course –
Electron beam finds ground and streams with ergonomic force.
All this is fine if you are not the cardboard or the puddle
I think the point is going to find
My soul right in the muddle –
For on the left are doctors fair, their skills and actions ready
And in the right with prayers bright the vigil’s watch is steady.
When viewed as line graph left and right
Are weak for want of power
But bend them on an angle graph
Their freedom’s in an hour.
The problem comes not when the flow of life is outward routed
The vertex stands as starting point, no zero-sum is touted.
But turn it round, and now those flows
Of vectors to maturity
Reverse direction towards a burn
Of light-refining purity.
The beams are harmless of themselves which ever way they flow
But crossed, the vertex point awaits some patience and a soul –
The left demand a faith in science and man’s almighty power,
The right demands faith in His touch, and health within the hour.
But neither side condones the truth the other side holds dear
So both continue on their ways – though burning vertex fear.
Then comes a day for those like me who left and right arms hold,
There’s glint in eyes as both sides rise – the stakes -- refiners’ gold.
I smile and walk into the fire
They think a cataclysm
But they forget that death to both
Was buried in Baptism.