It’s never easy to hug the fog
or pull the wind close
or fill the emptiness of the night sky
with the kisses I keep blowing.
It’s not easy.
grasping at the vague, embracing hope.
We pull him close
feeling the chill, sensing the torment.
We face the emptiness
loving and holding, saying the right words,
believing the right things.
Some say it’s denial, or
maybe those are the doubting voices in my heart.
They say fog isn’t huggable,
and the wind is going to blow past me,
and the sky is just void and unfillable.
Some say it’s sacrifice, or
maybe those are the proud voices in my heart.
They say the fog, the wind, the sky –
they’re just bringing out my goodness,
how noble and selfless I am to love this child.
I just say:
I am loved by my Father
and so is he –
and, I want him
to feel that
May the fog lift, the wind settle, and the night sky
just surrender to the
joy of morning.