Thirty-third Anniversary

A poem in honor of my wife who has endured so much.

You may listen to me read the poem via the player below.

Last January scientists from the
Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory
Detected that a neutron star 
One and a half times the mass of our sun
Had crashed into a black hole.
Sixteen days later
And some billion light years away
It happened again
Sending gravity ripples
Along the warp and weft of space-time
Till it found us.

On June 9, you passed
Beyond the ER’s event horizon
Into another universe behind closed doors
Where COVID protocols would not let me enter.
You were charted and mapped,
Broken open by quantum complications
Which seemed to leave
The teams of physicists
Who tended you
Curious but

But I was stunned
As I came to orbit
The surgical waiting room
Where I circled with relative disbelief
The grave matters 
Of life and death, 
Children and parents,
Fear and the unknown.

You became a portal
To the cosmic reality that life
Which can seem to run so well
Is imperceptibly good
And fragile.

Sixteen days later, we emerged from
Your room’s capsule
On our Thirty-third Anniversary
Warped tight by trial
And weft arm in arm
To weave our way
Through the hospital hall.
And as we moved through that universe
No instruments detected the gratitude
Emitted in waves of thanksgiving
Nor perceived the prayer and praise.

© Randall Edwards 2021.
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About randamir

I pastor Grace Presbyterian Church in Kernersville, North Carolina which locals fondly refer to as K-vegas -- the town not the church. As D.T. Niles once said, "I am not important except to God."

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