The Doctor

This poem was written by Chaim Bashevkin and was in the Yated last year. I think it has an incredible and powerful message. Enjoy!

The doctor's office
Cloaked in dread
A somber spirit looms
Uneasiness
Uncertainty
Fills each one of the rooms

The tears are clearly
Palpable
The husband and the wife
Is there anything
That we can do
That may just save his life?

"I'm sorry,"
Said the doctor
"There's nothing I can do
I wish there was
Some miracle
That I can offer you"

Dejected
They both left the room
And shuffled back on home
When suddenly
A ring was heard
Coming from the phone

The doctor
Found a protocol!
He said it's guaranteed!
And so the couple
Rushed back in
With superhuman speed

"It may take
Too much effort"
The doctor did explain
"And nausea and tiredness
And often lots of pain"

"Of course! Of course!
We shall comply
If this can bring the cure!
No task you ask
Is beyond us
We're positive! We're sure!

"We'll wake up
Before dawn each day
We'll follow protocol
We'll listen to
Each word you say
We'll miss nothing at all!

"We'll read instructions
Carefully
We will not skip a word
We won't ignore
A thing you say
For that would be absurd!

We'll watch our actions
Cautiously
We'll eat just what prescribed
We'll study what
The doctor said
And every word transcribed

For somehow when
We know "it works"
No treatment is a pain
We'd follow
Every therapy
With zest and not complain

Imagine that the doctor
Who truly holds the key
Would tell us the prescription
To true eternity

We'd wake up hours
Before dawn
And reach each slichah slowly
We'd open up
Our eyes and ears
To only items holy

We'd follow
Shaarie Teshuvah
Like a sacred guide to cure
If we believed
In every word
If we were really sure

Would it be hard?
To learn some more
And give more charity?
Recite each bracha
Loud and clear
And bentch with clarity?

If we'd believe
The doctor said
That this would work for sure
We'd follow
Every protocol
Not treat it like a chore

We're in the Elul hospital
The prognosis
Is grim
They said that there
May not be hope
To save our life and limb

And suddenly
Almighty
The Doctor gave the cure
Prescribed it
And He promised us
Recovery for sure

Bud suddenly
We're tired
We'd like to fall asleep
Not listen
When the shofar sounds
And not wake up and weep

If only
The Almighty
Would wear a nice white coat
And come in
With a stethoscope
On every word we'd dote

So wake up
My dear readers
Let's follow the prescription
And I'm sure
Health and happiness
Will be our great inscription