Haiti

Real.
what is real.
where is real.
the heat, the pressing heat,
like a blanket covering me--
faces glistening as the sun
rises higher...
eyes wide with fear,
with pain.
eyes deep with sadness,
eyes burning into my soul,
my being--
searching...

Peace.
the sound of lilting voices
carries through
the still darkness.
their words unknown,
blending into the music of the night.
the music of their soul carries on...
quiet acceptance of the life given.
quiet desperation of the life given.

stripped away of falsehood--
of the outer layers that cover
my existence,
I stand within the mountain people.
stripped to my true self,
not covered with the layers of protection
I have built around my inner soul--
unable to control the raw emotion.
I am.
in all my falsehood and pain
I find a part of me
that lies deep within.
I smile.

Painful.
each lesson in life
is one to be earned,
not given.
and this lesson to my soul
is great
as my heart is
broken open
to these people in need.

Sylvia D. Campbell, MD
October 1996