Operation Miracle

 

Be gentle, good surgeon:

A life lies on the table.

 

The heart you hold in the palm of your hand,

So fragile and slight,

Is the instrument of love

And animation,

Sparkle and vivacity,

Spirit and being.

The bloodied tissue in your fingers

Contains the thrill of living.

 

Excitement has coursed through the veins you slice;

Be careful with them, surgeon,

In the name of sensation,

In the name of emotion.

 

Think not of survival, surgeon.

Think not of organs that function and blood that flows.

Think of life, think of passion.

Think of the miracle laid bare beneath your scalpel blade.

Author's Note

I can't decide if this is too clichéd (as in, clichéd in a bad way - I usually love a bit of tack). Thoughts?