Andrea Gibson’s poem, “in the chemo room, I wear mittens made of ice…”, runs a countercurrent between hope and skepticism, like if the phrase “realistically speaking” could be inflated, so it wasn’t only registering the skepticism about any moment in life but also what life feels like when you’re really looking at the reality with all the intentions you have. Gibson says in their “About this poem” at the Poem-a-Day page that they learned more about life when they were diagnosed with ovarian cancer. And so moments in the poem where the reader is assured, “it’s only the poet being realistic” are also about how they keep finding moments in their life that outmaneuver reality. “Remind me / all my prayers were answered // the moment I started praying / for what I already have.” What a realist, this poet!
And look at how faithful they are to God. Which is what I think a Christianity mindful of kindness encourages faithful people to do. Be grateful. See what you already have. Don’t take those things for granted. And this, for me, is how I see Gibson’s poem moving their religious views past what’s real, or investing what’s real with what’s possibly larger than reality. “How can you blow up // a second like a balloon and fit infinity inside of it? // I’m infinite, I know.” It’s a dearly stated perspective. Someone understanding how many directions disappointment could come from, but, then, if they keep looking at the present, they’ll see how many ways their life is constructed among those passed disappointments with sincere gratitude. “I love this life, // I whisper into my doctor’s stethoscope // so she can hear my heart.”
ADDENDUM: I can’t help but note this poem’s relationship to the heart like the previous poem I wrote about: “Not on Geological Time,” by Felicia Zamora (the link to my reading of the poem).