For a National Day of Celebration

Written for and read in Grant Park (Chicago, IL) at a gathering for National Cancer Survivors’ Day following my first healing journey through cancer treatment. Thank you to all those on my healing team!

For a National Day of Celebration

I have healed from cancer,
I am a cancer thriver.
I have sucked this
sometimes bitter mint,
sometimes sweet,

and have grown
from the knowing
of its juices.
I have learned of love
that can’t wait

and I have chosen
and accepted healing
in all my aspects,
not just the body.
My mind and spirit
called out in need

and I have answered.
I cried out for help
and have been showered with it.
My relationships are healed,
my life is healed.
I am most blessed.

It is my continuing choice now
to remember what I know
and let this flow through me
to others in need.
We are all chosen
and marked for this task:

that our healing should
radiate out from us like
a stone skipped on the purest pond,
to gently and powerfully
heal all we find.

There is no going back to our old lives;
for a thriver the healing continues,
to learn again
how to laugh from the belly,
how to sing with full voice,
how to dance your socks off!

Margaret Dubay Mikus
(c) 1997

From As Easy as Breathing

Mom’s High School Boyfriend

Mom and Me in 2009 Copyright MDMikus

Mom’s High School Boyfriend

If war had not come
and he had lived on and
they had stayed together
I would not have been born.

The unique combination of genes
the lattice upon which I grew to be
the one choosing this path for myself
all that would not…exist

here and now anyway
whatever you believe about
alternate universes where
the other forks in the road were taken.

My potential existence hung uncontrolled
on so much unbeknownst to me—
the baby yet to come—then
if war and chaos and despair

had not shaken the world
like a snow globe but violent
and at the conclusion settled back into
a sailor and a nurse meeting

through mutual friends, marrying
in their common parish church
raising seven children
me being the second.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
(c) 2015

Published in Journal of Modern Poetry, vol. 20, (2017) The Poetry Writer’s Guide to the Galaxy

The Kind of Silk Parachutes Are Made Of

2/9/17

The Kind of Silk Parachutes Are Made Of

(After Crystal, Peter Mulvey, Martin Luther King, Jr.)

Love is not reserved
for those deemed deserving
the few familiar inner circle

Love is the necessary antidote
to pervasive poisonous fear
let the shadows

be brought to the light
Fear cannot neutralize fear
only love can do that

not the mushiness
of pop culture love
but the surprising strength

of love-silk, each energy fiber
made and woven
by determined due diligence

the healing of tenderness
Love is power, not force
seeing the best in

and holding that sacred space
with hope, but not expectation
Not the dark pull of what is happening

But…
who are you in relation to this?
What are your choices?

Can you take 1 minute and send
to our White House
glitter sprinkles of love

a blizzard of love
At first they evaporate like
snowflakes on a hot July sidewalk

but persist—even a little bit
added to millions of bits
can cover in love as a blanket

“only love in, only love out.”
It takes so little to try it
and keep on…love as a radical act

of resistance
of resilience
of resolution
of revolution
of resurrection

Margaret Dubay Mikus
(c) 2017

From my poetic journal.
Published in Journal of Modern Poetry, vol. 21, “Dear Mr. President,” 2018

Third Healing Offering

Original blog post was on 2/24/12.

I would like to share my healing song, “Prayer of Lovingkindness,” which I wrote in 1996. When I read the first three stanzas below, I heard music. This was not usual for me, so I paid attention. I sat at my piano and figured out the notes I had heard. Years later, I was doing healing work with Susi Roos, NP, and she suggested adding on the second part to the song using present tense. It seemed very powerful together–and peaceful. Although originally shy about singing on my own, I’ve now sung “Prayer of Lovingkindness” at workshops, funerals, healing services, and in the surgical suite with my medical team before cancer surgery at a major Chicago teaching hospital (a story for another day). Read, listen, and sing along with my CD, Full Blooming: Selections from a Poetic Journal (track # 59). Please share.

Prayer of Lovingkindness

(music by Margaret Dubay Mikus)

The asking:

May I be at peace.
May my heart remain open.
May I awaken to the light of my own true nature.
May I be healed.
May I be a source of healing for all beings.

May you be at peace
May your heart remain open.
May you awaken to the light of your own true nature.
May you be healed.
May you be a source of healing for all beings.

May we be at peace.
May our hearts remain open.
May we awaken to the light of our own true nature.
May we be healed.
May we be a source of healing for all beings.

The answering:

I am at peace.
My heart remains open.
I am awake to the light of my own true nature.
I am healed.
I am a source of healing for all beings.

You are at peace
Your heart remains open.
You are awake to the light of your own true nature.
You are healed.
You are a source of healing for all beings.

We are at peace.
Our hearts remain open.
We are awake to the light of our own true nature.
We are healed.
We are a source of healing for all beings.

And so healing ripples out from you like a stone skipped on a clear pond.

Words adapted from the Buddhist metta (lovingkindness) meditation, (originally I read it in Pocketful of Miracles by Joan Borysenko, Ph.D.)

Recorded on Full Blooming: Selections from a Poetic Journal, (2007), track # 59. Sing along.

Please share!

Love and Only Love

This poem has been in my head lately as a reminder that no matter what struggles are going on with my body, to send it love. It is doing its best. A good way to start a new year.

Love and Only Love

Love with every stroke of the shaver,
with every lather of soap, slather of lotion, love.

Not impatience, not frustration, not disgust
at varicose veins, sags, wrinkles, scars,

but love,
with every look, every caress

at the power, the strength,
the beauty of this body in my care.

Love with every glance in the mirror
every wry smile, every tear.

Love, love and only love.
Yes, other thoughts slip in,

let them slip out,
no recrimination, no justification.

Love with every stroke,
healing in my touch, breath

and blink of an eye.
Love, love and only love.

From my poetic journal

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