Tired muscles, aching bones
Barely able to lift a foot
Yet to and fro, he walks the grounds
Gut rumbling away and begging for food
Fatigue denies him an appetite for this
While time cheats his growling gut
Rolling into a measly one
Disner, lunch and his supper
He hears his eiderdown’s plea to encase him
But he must refuse this plea for now
It is another three-quarters of a day
Filled with moans and groans of those in his care
Souls needing and taking relentlessly
Broken bodies in need of care
Crying out in feverish delirium
They will mend under his tender care
They will heal when touched by his fingers
Fingers filled with knowledge from the gods
Filling their bodies with renewed vigour
He thinks about his fate and is tired mind tells him
He could never find another so fulfilling
Photo credit: Akinyemi
Aweni 
It is a calling! 🤗
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