NIghtingale Song

The vulnerable body, pierced by bitter winds of tribulation. Despair, slung low like moody drizzly, frail shells of clouds dripping sorrow. Pain spreads; shivers then Nightingales descend stolen from the heavens. Weary bones, unfettered, infused with strength quiet moments, tender care, eternal clay resculpted by angel's hands. They whisper the sun warm and gold across the rippling waters of Man A nurse rings compassion around care around compassion around care concentric rings around our lives until they are defined by the warble of her song