Holding Their Hands

It's a sacred experience To be in the presence of hopelessness When everything looks dry and rigid No amount of medication can bring reprieve No amount of words can extinguish the anguish It's as if everything under the sun is hopelessness The plate of food on the table has nothing to offer Not even a concoction of spells is helpful The bandage on their wound cannot stop the dreaded feeling of death The moment of certainty is deliberately balanced on the moment of uncertainty Everything is shaky, unpleasant and gloomy There are no signposts to offer consolations Not even the sunshine can offer hope All human capabilities have been exhausted The moment of death is fast approaching like a runaway train No amount of warmth seems enough We have entered the sacred place of emptiness When ego has naturally deserted its perch And all thoughts are frozen stiff It's the moment of death Holding their hands is the only bridge Between their world and yours As they slip into the realm of the unknown Body and mind left to rot The soul has finally been released The physical bondage has been broken The spirit is freed To soar through the skies of heaven Death is a sacred experience That inhabits the doctor's mind In these times of Covid-19 outbreak There is no one to hold their hands Only death Stay safe Wear your face masks in public Wash your hands more often Practice social distancing Dedicated to all Health Care workers and all patients lost to the Covid-19 outbreak ©