And when she aches
she will know a world beyond herself.
Where thunder becomes her;
a raging fire, waiting to be.
How is this small softness
so wide with grief beyond the day!
How is this smile,
so often true,
suddenly drawn with a question mark?
They will know her pain
only as the tilt of an eye.
They will be forgiven by this one
before they see her sorrow there.
Always, they will be forgiven by this one.