The Secret Surgeon’s Lullaby

Our mouths are caves with secrets,
Teeth and bones that we forget.
Until the ache, the need, the urgency,
When we must seek the surgeon’s hands.

I remember the office park,
Wind whistling through the parking lot.
The low hum of machinery,
The little room where I lay down.

The surgeon gave me laughing gas
And with it came a lullaby.
A song of beeps and heart monitors
That lulled me into slumberto sleep peacefully and deeply, often indicating rest or rejuvenation deep.

When I woke, the team still worked,
Their hurried motions spoke of time.
And so they wheeled me out,
My cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk’s hide.

But my devoted mom was there
To take me home and care for me.
A lullaby of her own voice,
A healing song of lovea strong feeling of affection and attachment towards someone or something and care.