‘Mid realms where life and dreams entwine,
the theater stage where fates align,
I watch alert, a vigilant guide,
An anesthesiologist, guards bedside.
A patient’s life, this fragile thread,
a steady march of vitals tread.
An entranced slumber I compose,
for mortal pains, a brief repose.
To rhythmic beeps and heartbeats thrum,
I step in time amid the hum
of tempoed ventilators driving breath.
In a healing dance, I hold back death.
In this operatic theater’s glow,
mere mortals healing here below,
a surgeon’s scalpel poised to mend.
When brooding shadows do descend.
At once, amid this tightrope dance,
a poignant time, precipitous chance,
an eerie silence filled the air,
and I beheld a soul laid bare.
The room grew hushed, his heartbeats slowed,
as hidden secrets thus bestowed,
a dance of spirits, loosely tethered
between the realms, they softly feathered.
Time halted in that fateful sphere.
The door to the Beyond drew near.
I, mere guardian, poised to defend,
Fatality hindered, hopes extend.
A near-death waltz, a delicate trance,
wherein the soul’s ethereal dance,
in Twilight’s embrace, the two spheres meet,
an unseen threshold, the thin sheer sheet.
In that suspended, infinite glance,
Pulled back to show the cosmic expanse.
An awestruck doctor, this humble seer,
Surveys the veil ‘twixt joy and fear.
With two deft hands, rekindled breath,
His pulse returns from brink of death,
supporting life to keep the fight.
Thus turning soul from light to light.
In deeps of night, as hours toll,
Soft witness to the human soul,
I find that my perspective’s rare,
and gives me pause, and cause for prayer.
