Some days
I buckle under the weight
of all the dark forces
that hold dominion
on the widow and orphan.
Some days
I feel the downward vortex
of the stillborn one
and the empty bassinet.
Aching for a way-shower.
A guide to show me how to get
OUT.
And then
I rise.
Somehow.
I honestly cannot tell you how.
It rises within like a surge of firey pain
that cries out to love life
and be fruitful.
On Tuesday
I told the woman that my favorite word was
"nevertheless".
Love,
