Hearts that beat,
Turn into hearts that don’t.
Can emotion resuscitate
What electricity cannot?
A mother’s tears pitter patter,
On her son’s fading rays.
Within the chaos of the storm,
A sense of calm appears.
The doctor shocks, the patient jolts,
Compressions resume and chaos ensues.
The boy’s rhythm still missing,
But ours establish another.
The doctor’s arms tire, so I take over.
His brave mask rips:
A fearful face of futility hides behind it.
The rhythmic lines flatten,
Resuscitation, a helpless prayer.
Life and death are but mere differences in pattern.
But for this mother, so much more.