I've mentioned it before, how I recognize it is my role to report not only what is going on in the nursing realm, but to tell the stories of those persons who present into our health-care setting.

To Write

I'm not a prophet or a messenger
I'm just a fellow, who can make a phrase,
I come to work near the end of the night
And then, I welcome in the days,
To write about these others
To tell the story as I see it,
They may never get the chance
As their agent, I can free it,
I won't divulge their sacred oneness
When I meld it with my words,
Yet I'll cast a thousand seeds of wisdom
To be consumed by many birds.

Fibril_late;
11/17/08
_ - _ - _ - _ - _ -

Recordings

Very few nurses
Read the lines that I pen,
The trials and errors
Experienced over and again,
Yet I still feel the urge
To put it in writing,
Like a night-time mosquito
Intent on its biting.

I have written for years
But very few listened,
It really doesn't matter
Regarding the verses I've christened,
These are recordings
That needed to be done,
And I surely didn't know
That I was the one,
While writing for years
In papers and in journals,
Never suspecting my topic
Might be of bedpans and urinals.

Fibril_late;
11/17/08