My Portion

Sorrow
(Unlike fear)
Is a grace because
At least
You can own it

Once you learn
To recognize
Its presence
like an old friend,
You can open
The door
You can put the kettle
On the stove
and settle in
To hear stories
of this love's ache
told
softly,
gently

together let us
sleep
and wake
freshly broken
freshly watching

for God
Who (still)
sees us