Within the Trenches - From the inbox
A share from a good friend and past podcast guest. She and her crew worked a tragic fire call and a co-worker wrote a poem for her.
"We took a call the other night for a house fire. 6 perished. We are heart broken. And she wrote that for me."
I am not empty
I am filled with ghosts.
They live in my soul
They sway alongside the happy spirits that dance with good memories.
I am not impenetrable
I suffer the wounds
Of stabs and lacerations
I bleed, every day when the blood of others’ cuts drip onto me.
I am not strong
I stand at the precipice
Of those who fell down.
I rise, for the fallen who will never rise again.
I am not cursed
I am blessed, knowing
I am a part of life.
Death’s pride, will not gloat over me.
I am there when you live
I am there when you die
I am 911.
I am the voice that will carry you home.