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".

-kg