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417 Hz Chakra (Nature)

de Solfeggio Dreams

In a world of dead canvases and such cold marble
There is a call that resonates, that dispels the emptiness
Florence whispered the secret, the rarest truth
That Nursing is not a profession, but a clear art
It requires devotion, the preparation of a painter or sculptor
But it treats the Living Canvas, bathed in warmth

Angel, the most beautiful of arts is in you
You touch the living body that time wants to stop
It is the Temple of the Spirit, the fragility that life gave us
And your gentle hand is the miracle that descended from heaven
You are the art, the devotion, the care that makes us breathe
You are the art of caring

What is chiseling stone, or molding cold clay
Compared to the touch that dispels the shiver?
Compared to one who treats the life that pulsates and bleeds
To one who rebuilds hope in the crumbling bed?
You bring light to the bedside, science and compassion united
In the rigor of preparation, in the strength of your mission

Angel, the most beautiful of arts resides in you
You touch the living body that time wants to hold back
You are the Temple of the Spirit, the fragility that life has given us
And your gentle hand is the miracle that descended from heaven
You are the art, the devotion, the care that makes us breathe
You are the art of caring

Florence saw the beauty beyond the gift of sight
It is the noblest of arts, the most altruistic
You heard the call, the voice that no one can silence
You are the cure that arrives at the exact moment and speaks
(You are the angel who saves us!)

Angel, the most beautiful of arts resides in you
You touch the living body that time wants to hold back
You are the Temple of the Spirit, the fragility that life has given us
And your gentle hand is the miracle that descended from heaven
You are the art, the devotion, the care that makes us breathe
You are the art of caring

Angel
The most beautiful of arts
You are the art of caring

In a world of dead canvases and such cold marble
There is a call that resonates, that dispels the emptiness
Florence whispered the secret, the rarest truth
That Nursing is not a craft, but a clear art
It requires devotion, the preparation of a painter or sculptor
But it treats the Living Canvas, bathed in warmth

Angel, the most beautiful of arts is in you
You touch the living body that time wants to stop
It is the Temple of the Spirit, the fragility that life gave us
And your gentle hand is the miracle that descended from heaven
You are the art, the devotion, the care that makes us breathe
You are the art of caring

What is chiseling stone, or molding cold clay
Compared to the touch that dispels the shiver?
Compared to those who tend to the pulsating, bleeding life
To those who rebuild hope in the crumbling bed?
You bring light to the bedside, science and compassion united
In the rigor of your preparation, in the strength of your mission

Angel

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