by Nicholas Bellacicco

It takes prayer to melt steel 
hands weaved while sitting
still, on a runaway train
They say power is in prayer
All I hear is a subtle hum in the night
Each breath a syllable rising Fahrenheit and 
refining metal into dew drops
The conversation between man and Creator is 
lightening, born of the parents: love and suffering
I remember the first time my flint knees
trembled against the wooden floorboards
There was smoke and flame and tears 
A house consumed by holy blaze
Floor boards turned to ash and my windows fractured
The kitchen table was now divided 
And the more I spoke, the more I kindled
the purifying flames. 

Nicholas Bellacicco was born and raised in Stamford, CT. He attended Baylor University in Waco, TX, where he studied Medical Humanities. He went on to graduate from medical school and is currently a Neurology resident. He is passionate about the art dimension of healthcare and has published and spoken on the importance of clinical empathy. In December 2017 his debut poetry book Pouring Echoes was published. His poetry has been published in Prime Number MagazineThe Healing MuseCatholic Poetry Room, and the Harvard Medical Student Review. 

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