A Time of Truth

A Time of Truth

They told us it would be difficult,
to cope with inevitable death -
that the signs would be misleading,
we would have unsustainable faith.

They told us it would be hard
to accept what the surgeons would say;
that outward appearances would lead us
to think in a miracle’s way.

They told us it wouldn’t be easy
(when all the evidence conveyed
that clutching at straws was the answer)
to face reality instead.

The lies we believed to be true
we fed like a drip every day:
talk of tomorrow, next week, and next month -
there was always something to say.

The pain we tried to keep hidden
(and wondered if she hid it too)
was a mutual bond of unspeaking
in conversations truly untrue.

The love beyond explanation
took us down to the regions of death.
One breathing without comprehension,
others fighting emotion for breath.

How difficult, how hard was it all?
How well did we cope with the blow?
Certain things can not be translated.
You do not know until you know.