Womb of the Night Sky

I was tumbling
in a roll and a loll
away from Ursa Mamma Bear
and her lovely fur of darkness
and my extravagant dreams
The eggshell-blue eyes
of a woman in scrubs tells me
about tubes and lymph and hospital stays.
She blurs, becomes part of a blinding background
as the doors to the surgery
theater open and part.
How will I survive such light?