On Reading of the Demolition of the Once Good Hospital of My Birth

I think He made this hospital 
beautiful this place of dying, 
birthing, healing and enduring—

How It opened up like a prayer
monumental and pleasing
a place to tend God and body—

How He wanted those returning from 
sleep not to know the smell of cotton    
but the feel of traveling into a kiss—

How He made it to repeat the simple 
gestures of love, knows its arc, 
its turnings and returnings

made it to ripple and embrace
your heart, soul and mind 
as your legs walked within it—

He wanted you to come to it
Reward you for coming to it
by giving you more beauty 

than you expected and just 
enough to endure the healing 
blessings of your body—

to take the poetry of being 
with you and make its simple 
gestures eternally repeating