An allegory

He couldn't sleep
He lay in the darkness of despair
His mind was a jumble of thoughts and images
Nothing but nonsense.
He tried to slow his speeding brain -
Round and round - Spinning,
whirling, like a dervish-
A dust-devil of senselessness.
And no words came...
And no words came.

He lay on his right arm.
He tried to move his other arm to signal for help
A nurse came by, shining her torch over his bed
"What's the matter dear? can?t you sleep?"
"Tell me what is worrying you, perhaps I can help."
"I…I…I… ohohohoh…"
But no words came.

He was alone and no-one answered.
Fear gripped his soul
In the black bank of despair
He was alone and no words came.
"Who will help me now?"
He understood he was in deep trouble

"Listen, dear,"
You?ve had a stroke,
but not too serious,
You?ll feel better in the morning."
But the night was far gone, and still no words came…
Spread out alone
with no words there
   He wept,
His sobs hurt the kindly nurse
"Try not to worry dear,

I'm here,
I'll pray for you ?
All will be well in the morning, you'll see
Trust me, have this aspirin,
You'll sleep now."
No sobs, at ease
He smiled in thanks,
The mystery of a Presence - Peace.

This poem was written by Chris Ridsdale-Smith