Thursday, September 9, 2010


It must be the most consummate
burglar of them all.
At the beginning, the thefts were basic;
walking, dressing myself,
turning over in bed.
But later, it removed my ability
to feed myself, to sing in a choir
and play the piano.
It seems the thieving is systematic;
when I spasm, I either go rigid
like a corpse or curl into a fetal ball;
my very beginning
and my very end are intact;
it’s the life in between
that is being dismantled.

Some weeks ago I had friends around
to honour a young man’s death.
Shubert’s “Winterreise” was sung.
The room was full of beauty and pain;
the human need to give comfort
was expressed by my friends
holding one another in close embrace.

Entrenched in my wheelchair,
like an armadillo,
I sat watching.
I could neither give
nor receive comfort.
The M.S had stolen
my human connectedness.
I was left with only words,
but words were not appropriate.
It was a double grieving
and brought with it the fear
that one day, even my words
might be taken away.


  1. Hello, Diana. I've seen the thievery of MS in my family, and I sense the pain of your losses. But it seems that MS hasn't quite stolen your human connectedness. You've touched me, here in Maryland, USA, over my morning coffee. I came upon your blog through Google Alerts, a daily digest of MS-related topics online. Words are both inadequate and powerful.

  2. Diana,
    Wonderful poetry! I am amazed that I haven't come across your blog before. I run the Carnival of MS Bloggers and would love to feature your work in this next week's edition. Please let me know if that is ok. It will also introduce you to other MS bloggers in our community. I'm glad that I found you.

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  4. Yes, it's ok, you can include Diana. At first, she hadn't been able to open your website to see what it was all about.

  5. Diana, I just read your post on Lisa's site...Your words are powerful, your heart courageous, your essence shining...your words will always be a blessing...even if you cannot speak them...they are here, they are visible, they will remain always a beacon leading others to the beauty of your presence.