Many of you may remember that I spent three weeks at an Ayurveda Clinic in Kerala in South India. This poem commemorates an experience there. The picture, by the way, is not mine, but from internet.

A Precious Moment in Time
By John Herlihy

She comes once a day
The Indian blood pressure nurse
A nurse’s coat covers her white sari
She greets me in shy English
Broken words from a full heart
Her smile betrays her truth
Her face betrays her innocence
She unpacks the equipment efficiently
Wraps it around my arm, an embrace
While the measuring takes place
She smiles down at the naughty child I am
“High pressure of an old man,” I murmur
“But your blood pressure is young,” she jokes.
And impishly adds: “You are superman.”
She sings a few bars from a sacred song
It’s about Lord Krishna on the battlefield.”
“The battlefield of life,” I venture to reply.
As her soft voice fades with her smile.
With the monsoon wind she is gone
Although the rains continue to roar
At the door, she turns and smiles
“See you again tomorrow,” she chirps
“I’ll be waiting for you,” I reply
“but only if you sing again of Lord Krishna.”
I sit alone now again in the room
But my mind is already thinking ahead
As I make myself ready for tomorrow
When Lord Krishna will again come riding
On the back of his white stead
Riding the crest of a sweet song
Sung by a simple Indian girl, my nurse.