Precious Heartbeats Poem by Willem VanVoorthuysen

A friendly local cop came to our door to tell me
you’d had an accident, about a block away.
While carrying a load of groceries on your bike,
you made too sharp a turn and fell quite hard.
So, praying fervently, I jumped into his car
to get to you and help you
in any way I could...

You lay there on the pavement, unconscious,
a puddle of blood surrounding your sweet head…
I thought I had already lost you, but God said,
'Just let the medics do their job, son.'
And as your vital signs became a little better,
you were, before long, safely moved
into intensive care.

For hours I watched that precious trace, its spikes,
in rapid movement across the monitor screen,
much like an old white fence, with weather-beaten
rails and spikes, against the background of
a dense green forest, strangely frozen in July,
like my heart, gripped by the chilling fear
of losing you...

I knew you’d be alright, my sweetheart,
as long as that white fence stayed there,
so I kept praying for those spikes to soon
grow taller and more evenly spaced, to show
that God was giving you back to me, alive…
He did! His Holy name be praised,
amen.