A civil muse

To  the prospect of her husband’s death, resigned
Sad and anxious were her feelings at the news.
When he was cured, her heart was pleased yet pained.

Anger with  him sent her half insane
A paradox since she was not to lose.
To  the prospect of  his death,  she’d been resigned

Illogical, she felt he was to blame.
Reality  was hard and lonely  from her view
When he was cured,  the doctors she disdained

The doctors did not understand what’s plain-
That changing all our notions  makes us blue
To  the knowledge of  his death,  she’d been resigned

When bad news turns to good we ‘re redesigned
Our  inner  symbols slowly are made new
When he was healed, her cup filled up with pain.

What poetry  survives a civil muse?
What  love  such healing can, surprised, endure
To  the prospect of her husband’s  loss resigned
By his cure, her art was countersigned.