Reverence1 min 13 1 min 13
Every night eleven, in midst of bold quiet.
When stars and at times moon are a blight
In the grey or black skies.
I stealth into the lonely corridor corner.
Vantage position, hold the aisle and the room inside
With dilating eyes staring through the vanta derides
Sound, a feather drop, too loud.
Vibrating phone wrings my stride.
My brother sleep-deprived
His loving voice of toil and sweat
His eagerness and willingness to ask and tell
And I give out a very hushed yell.
Putting me in the medical school
Himself resigning to fields and farms
Keeping the promise of our father's yarn
To see me a doctor one day.
With meager means, he chose fields to stay.
Not a whiff of pain or sadness stained
Fuelling my spirits every night to prove the day
When the plaque of wood and brass
Outside our thatched mansion that
Holds already a place with title dr. ordained.
Wipes and cleans the dust each day.
Make me worthy of his dreams and perspiration
Waiting to garland him one day with his aspiration.
Help me god to stand tall and live his expectations
For one who is doctoring my life today.
My degree and title to him shall be bequeathed
In his feet, I shall this all lay.