NeuroDivine

In the deep hush of night, wrapped in turquoise warmth, I sit and breathe while Richard keeps his faithful vigil beside me.

I sit upright in Andrew’s chair,
The window open wide;
My coughing stirs the early air,
Yet Richard stays beside.

Wrapped in a soft Sherpa’s hold,
A teddy‑bear‑like hug,
I brace against the night‑time cold
Within its gentle snug.

Across the office floor he comes
To rest against my knee;
His watchful green‑lit vigil hums
With calm fidelity.

The draught that moves the curtain’s hem
Would chase a lesser friend;
But he remains, a quiet gem
On whom the hours depend.

So while my breath is rough and thin
And dawn feels far away,
He keeps his faithful vigil in
The cradle of the grey.

And in this hush of shadowed hours,
A sanctuary grows:
With Richard’s watch, and Otto’s powers
Of comfort ’gainst my woes.

Written in the small hours. Copyright 2026.