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I close my eyes.
My translucent form drifts into the past
from the bed where I’m lying in the present
and I’m back in that garden with you.
My ghost self glides into your body,
occupying the same exact place in time and space
as you.
Kneeling here,
we reside within each other.
My heart cradles your heart,
beating as one.
We wait together,
the rest of the world falling still – distant and alien
while we hold our breath
and try to beat back the panic.
If it is possible, may this cup be taken away from me
we plead over and over,
desperation and distress
overwhelming the soul to the point of death.
Then the horror of reality:
we are not going to be spared,
we are not going to be rescued,
not this time, not right now.
We are loved
but we are not going to be saved from this.
And it hurts. It doesn’t feel like love.
Each breath stings with grief.
I know this territory well;
my soul is the perfect companion for yours tonight.
We hold on tight.
Your heart cradles my heart.
We are one in Gethsemane.
If it is possible, may this cup be taken away from me.


© J.K.Rowbory 2014 – All Rights Reserved
No part of this poem may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.


If you like this poem, you might like other poems of mine, which you can read in my poetry book ‘Rainbows in my eyes’ (published by Longman). You can buy it from or if you’re in the USA, you can buy it from Lifestream:
You may also like to read my more recent poems.

If any vicars/ministers would like to read aloud ‘Gethsemane’ in a church service as Easter approaches, that would make me very happy. Let me know if you do! Please don’t print out copies of the poem though (for copyright reasons).


About me:

All the things that you never wanted to know about my life with an acute chronic illness:

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Severe M.E. and me – my story:

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