A Nurse's Voice
Fear filled her veins,
Blood gushed into the hollows of her heart,
As she stared blankly into the ether,
“You’re deployed to the Covid ward”
The exact words uttered by her senior colleague,
It is as if everything unthinkable,
Occurring all at once.
Easter mornings never felt so mellow,
Amidst the aroma of spiced tea brewing,
Silence echoed,
Among these four walls,
Of her humble abode,
Worry slowly crept into the wrinkles on her forehead,
As the gentle monsoon breeze,
Swept through the curtains by the windowpane,
Watching her three-year-old sleeping peacefully,
Wrapped under the comfort of his sheets,
A tranquil voice whispered in her head,
“Can I do this?” it asked
Stroking the soft strands of his dark brown hair,
Salty tears flowed towards gravity,
Over her pale sorrow cheeks.
“Quick! Hand me the needle”
A chaos experienced like never before,
Through her trying nursing years,
Death seems so eminent now,
Dear scarred little heart,
Like Sun shedding its rays after a storm,
Shine your light onto these hurting beds,
Oh sweet angels up above,
Do shower your guiding beam of hope,
Onto this tired soul of mine,
Guide these shrivelled hands,
Nursing these precious,
Vulnerable lives,
Vulnerable lives,
Ease the pressure of these masks,
Heal these bruises under my gear,
Let each gruelling days pass,
Back to the bright blue skies of hope.
By Jessica John Poskođź’—
Comments
Post a Comment