Days of Awe

I watch her struggling

the life force slipping

helpless and holy

there is no way out

but through

as I prematurely mourn

a portal opens

for those gone too soon

and those soon to go

a howl is building within

biding its time 

forming in shape and size

expanding then contracting

begging for emancipation

yearning for

its escape imminent

beyond her last exhale

I will inhale

then blow

like a shofar

releasing sacred sounds

As I bellow and bay

beneath those blasts

the crickets will sing

their sweet discordant tune

and the birds will continue to soar

when I  listen closely

that gentle hum

paired with her

uneven breath

reminds me 

life and death

are intimately entwined

and until that

final moment

of release

there is a pulsing fervent beat

prompting me:

she is alive


we are living

if she could speak

she’d say

I am here beside you

drink me in with your eyes

be with me now

as I am

not as you desire me to be…

I wonder

will she forgive me

for grieving ahead of time

shifting in and out of her delicate presence

so much pain comes

in the anticipatory moments

imagining life without your physical form

while you are still here

I sit

observing and absorbing

your quiet suffering 

undertaken with a merciful patience

bearing the loveliest burden

…on my behalf

for that…for you

for love tinged with loss

my cry 

and awe


like a fresh

unborn fetus

waiting to be



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