When the hospital swallowed me into a ward, <br />when they took me into a theatre <br />and later put me on a moveable bed <br />I could not remember you anymore <br /> <br />but still you lingered <br />somewhere in my subconscious <br />as if nothing, no hospital <br />could remove the virus of you <br /> <br />from my being, <br />my spirit and soul <br />and still I was not totally alone <br />but of my visitors <br />you were never one <br /> <br />and only before God <br />I could find humility, <br />could bind my life, my duty <br />and love to Him <br />where it was as if each and every day <br />He waited on the visitor's bench next to me.<br /><br />Gert Strydom<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hospital-journal/
