Nightingale

NIGHTINGALE

In a place close by

A glen you may spy

Quiet and peaceful

It appears to be

tis the place where

The giver

You will happen to see

 

Many who ail

Make their journey there

Knowing instinctively

Of the one who will care

 

She ministers to all

For that is her call

She is a healer

With an angels demeanor

 

Not with potions, salves nor pill

Does she go about curing the ill

tis with the power that comes from above

That power that stems from and emits, tis love

 

In time, doth one and all heal

Increasingly joyful do they feel

Their gratitude, hard to conceal

The connections, surreal

 

Within, she sees

So many in need

Of her own ministrations

She barely takes head

 

Her family and friends reach out

“Who cares for the giver! “ They shout

Yet it’s the act of giving

The source of her living

 

So again we find

a line awaiting

and illnesses abating

giving and receiving

receiving and giving

It is with great regale

With love we hail

Celebrating the birth

Of our dear nightingale

-Shiidon, October 2008 

This poem was written for a dear friend who is a healer.  I say healer for it is she that heals, not the remedies that she, as a Homeopath, provides.  Aniela is that healer to me.  She has eased my, and others lives significantly.  I am grateful to her dear beloved husband and her children for the time they sacrifice for others so that they can be cared for.  The reference to nightingale is two fold.  The nightingale as a joyous bird and the person of Florence Nightingale who so willingly and sacrificially gave of herself for the healing of others.  I write this poem in honor of her birthday just past.