Because I lost you

I see the child, backlit by this extraordinary light, and because I lost you I know the kind of pain

Can come with a picture when the child is gone

I will always

Love you, child

No matter how Minotaur you make me

In this labyrinth

I have learned to

call home


The Stages of Grief

The call costs five cents a minute and you have to be ready with a form of payment. On the other end of the line there is

A princess stuck in a well

Bears curled in around a wee-sleepy home invader

A girl in a badly blended family with a knack for the most inconvenient footwear

And all the rest of us-

sleeping beauties, garden-of-Gethsemane-tired

Of hearing about

This impending crucifixion.

The Bear in the Woods

The day that Miracle died we walked in the mountains. Two bears walked ahead of us and their presence seemed ordained, magical.

It was magical I tell myself even though she died.

Sometimes I feel like I am out of mantras, out of coins for the machine, no longer capable of telling myself to believe it will all be ok.

Then Casey Hathaway tells us all about the bear who kept him company in the woods we have all got lost in and

I go there to find Him too, lean into his ursine chest, sob a little.

Believe He is real, despite the feat in our eyes.