For Sarah

For Sarah


Reading a poem the other day,
my cheeks glistened.

I heard weeping
in the wind.

The breeze became a gale.
My body was moved.

The poem I read
was written

by an angel
named Sarah.

Loss has embraced me,
grief as well.

And though I do not know Sarah,
I do know hell.

Reflecting upon her poem,
I heard the deep water speak;

“There is comfort
in knowing”

“That within the
jungle indoors”

“There lives a lioness,
with a heart that roars”