Boyertown PA
8-20-2026 4:51am

In Service: Being with Them Is Enough

"Into Home Square" acrylic by Sharon McGinley

Editor's note:  Writers were asked to respond to the theme of "service' as part of Studio B Art Gallery's "In Service" project sponsored by a grant from the Berks County Community Foundation.

by Thomas Johnson-Medland

1. LINGERING FOREVER

Her fingers worked the needles and yarn
like she was kneading bread dough blind.
Looking up to gauge my response to what
she had said, she’d knit and knit without pause.
It was not long before I realized that my
mother used to do the same. And somehow
as I sat with this hospice patient, listening
to her tell her tales, one by one I saw the
women of my life enter the room. Mom,
Mom-mom, Mimi, Nanna, Mertz, Karen and
Ruth, Aunt Pat, Aunt Norma, Aunt Betty, Dawn
and Pat joined her, knee to knee, needles tapping out
their cloth. It was then I first knew - deep down -
I carry those women with me - EVERYWHERE.
Those first and powerful women of my life,
they have knitted themselves an endless
blanket of my days even as they were
nowhere in view, just always under the
chatter of knitting, behind the threading of
a needle, or beyond the cutting of their
cloth. Somehow connecting me to
who I would become. Really, no words.
Just their ghostly appearance doing what
they did, all the while as I listened to this
woman slowly dying. And the others.
All the others. Slowly leaving through the years.
They are all in there, in me, lingering forever.

_______

2. - BEAUTIFUL LAND - written for Hospice Volunteers

Only give me some
space - be it ever so small -

to lay my head and ponder.

Only give me some
space - be it ever so tiny -

to sit myself and stare.

The place
where one piece of land
meets another -

ALMOST.

The space
where one mountain
reaches itself down and out

toward the upward slope of another -

ALMOST.
There is a river
there that runs between
the between of that
place.

There is an echo
there that bounces
off the mountain walls.

It is in that great space
of the between
you tilled the earthy
loam of compassion.

It is in that expansive place
of the echo
you planted tender
seedlings of giving.

The purpling shadows
of the dawn-rise mist
drape the moistening
soil and feed the
youngling trees.

The days will wear on
and it will not be long
before the trees youhave nursed offer
sheltering shade and
generative seed.

Ponder and stare

- with me -

upon the grove
you have planted;

blossom and leaf
are soon to bud.

Come into this
valley of tenderness

and gentle giving;

find repose
among the spreading
limbs and cold running
water.

This place is of your
own creating.

This space is of your
own design.

This is where you
shall find your "you".

Only give me some
space - be it ever so small -

to lay my head and ponder.

Only give me some
space - be it ever so tiny -

to sit myself and stare.

The place
where one piece of land
meets another -

ALMOST.

The space
where one mountain
reaches itself down and out

toward the upward slope of another -

ALMOST.

There is a river
there that runs between
the between of that
place.

There is an echo
there that bounces
off the mountain walls.

This beauty is yours;
this beauty is

you.
_______

3. THE DEAD STILL SERVE US
for Galen

I have come to
where the dead live
because they have a
fondness for silence

and pauses between
words.

The sloping green
hills of this place
are still enough – are
peaceful enough –

that the great
blue heron does not
feel a need to leave.
It sits there,

silent

and still –
undisturbed.

Every cubic inch
of this place seems
steeped in a sacredness
of space that hallows
what it touches.

This dirt is worthy
of holding our pain.

There are bruised
and tender portions
of life that ache
so badly and render
us so paralyzed

that only tears
can be found
on the landscape.

This place makes
that holy.

This is a place
that you could lean
and “loafe” at ease

and find yourself
made whole.

Every blade of
grass here is
formed from this

soil and this air

and leans into
the fabrication of
my soul – of
my being.

We are committed to the education, development, and collaboration of local poets; to awaken artistic expression in local communities. wordhive.org

* Thomas Johnson-Medland, poet & outdoorsman, has had over fifty articles and poems published across a variety of journals and magazines. He has also had twenty-six books published to date - fourteen of these are volumes of poetry. The most recent volumes RIVER BENDING: Poems of the Delaware River and Her Tributaries, and WAYFARING Stranger: Poems of the Nomad Soul published with Wipf and Stock Publishers. You can read more about Tom and his works at tomjohnsonmedland.com

Sharon McGinley's art tells another story of service to another: just being there.  She writes, "David Edwin Witmyer was a friend of mine. He died on Father’s Day, June 20, 2004. He was a medic in the Viet Nam War and developed fatal diseases caused by his exposure to Agent Orange.

David was an avid Parcheesi player and he would always choose he tiger pawns. Whenever anyone would visit, he would invite them to play the game. He always won.

There is a time in the game, if a player rolls the dice and gets a “double five,” they can go into “Home Square” and automatically win the game. “In Home Square” became a metaphor for David’s dying and moving into another realm where he continues to play Parcheesi.

David’s body lies on the American flag that he honored and served and his dog Mindy is with him.

The women in the painting are three Mary’s. I am one of them; his wife is another, and the third Mary, a loyal friend. We were with David as he breathed his last breath.

This painting is my way of honoring David and the life that he fully lived. Rest in peace, David. Thank you. ~Sharon McGinley

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