Therapy Bits

In sterile light, the whispers fade,

A solemn space where hope is laid.

With steady hands and focused gaze,

The doctor steps into the fray.

A woman lies, her breaths a sigh,

Her heart, a fragile lullaby.

In shadows cast by worry’s weight,

He knows the dance of life and fate.

With instruments like starlit tools,

He wields the knowledge learned in schools.

Each heartbeat echoes in the room,

A rhythm laced with looming gloom.

He opens wide the chest’s embrace,

Reveals the heart, that sacred space.

A vessel strong, yet worn by time,

Each pulse a story, each beat a rhyme.

The veins like rivers, twist and wind,

A map of love, of life entwined.

With gentle care, he mends the seams,

Restoring hope, resparking dreams.

He listens close, to every thrum,

In this still world, the ticking drum.

The whispered prayers, the silent pleas,

The weight of life, the heart’s decrees.

A stitch, a suture, a breath held tight,

He fights for her in the fading light.

In every movement, purpose found,

A lifeline forged in sacred ground.

Then comes the moment, a fragile thread,

As rhythmic life returns instead.

The heart awakens, beats once more,

With grateful thuds, a vibrant roar.

He steps back, the battle won,

The fragile thread, now tightly spun.

In quiet joy, the team exhales,

As life prevails and love prevails.

In the waiting room, the lights still glow,

A family waits, their hearts in tow.

For every life that he restores,

The doctor walks through hope’s own doors.

A healer’s art, a gift profound,

In the orchestra of life, the sweetest sound.

For in that room, where shadows creep,

A woman breathes, and dreams still leap.

https://christinebialczak.com/2025/02/25/simply-6-minutes-welcome-to-the-challenge-02-25-2025/