Feb 2016
“Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.”
That's Arthur C. Clarke.
My wife always believed we are not;
She was convinced we are not alone.
11 months ago,
My sweet wife said to me,
“Wouldn’t a pair of tiny feet
Pattering around the house
Sound so sugary sweet?”
10 months ago,
The doctor told me how
My count was pretty low and
Asked my wife about a bike accident
From when she was 10.
My wife cried a little, and then
At home, she cried
More than I’d ever seen her.
“I don’t want to be alone,” she said,
But I told her we’re never alone,
As long as we have God.
She told me, in one of the worlds out there,
We are complete.
The ‘S’ in universes keeps her hopeful,
And content.
8 months ago,
I sat in the waiting room
With my sweet wife who had
Been puking and aching for weeks.
The doctor called it a miracle
And said our lonely days were gone.
My wife said she was glad
We weren’t going to be alone,
With just her and me.
7 months ago,
My wife ate right, and exercised,
And sang to her belly, and
Did all of the things
She was told to do;
But it was not enough, because
1 month ago,
My wife — my sweet, lovely wife —
She tripped on the staircase-
That last creaky step I swore I’d fix-
And fell, and bled and bled.
The doctor said he was sorry,
That my wife, she’d be okay, but
That there was nothing to be done
About the young one.
My wife cried much more
Than she had cried 4 months before.
She said she didn’t want to be alone.
“But we are not alone,”
I held her and I said,
“We have God in our midst, we are not alone.”
A week ago,
I put out a sign
That declared ‘Garage Sale’
(Unabashedly, as if mocking us)
And lay out a motley of miniature clothes and objects-
Unused cribs and
Tiny, unworn shoes.
One day ago,
I said all the right things,
And loved and supported her,
And held her through her tears, but
Right now, as I cry
More than I’ve ever cried before,
And ask why I couldn’t be enough,
She is packing up her trunk,
Saying she can’t take it, saying
*“I just want to be alone.”
That's Arthur C. Clarke.
My wife always believed we are not;
She was convinced we are not alone.
11 months ago,
My sweet wife said to me,
“Wouldn’t a pair of tiny feet
Pattering around the house
Sound so sugary sweet?”
10 months ago,
The doctor told me how
My count was pretty low and
Asked my wife about a bike accident
From when she was 10.
My wife cried a little, and then
At home, she cried
More than I’d ever seen her.
“I don’t want to be alone,” she said,
But I told her we’re never alone,
As long as we have God.
She told me, in one of the worlds out there,
We are complete.
The ‘S’ in universes keeps her hopeful,
And content.
8 months ago,
I sat in the waiting room
With my sweet wife who had
Been puking and aching for weeks.
The doctor called it a miracle
And said our lonely days were gone.
My wife said she was glad
We weren’t going to be alone,
With just her and me.
7 months ago,
My wife ate right, and exercised,
And sang to her belly, and
Did all of the things
She was told to do;
But it was not enough, because
1 month ago,
My wife — my sweet, lovely wife —
She tripped on the staircase-
That last creaky step I swore I’d fix-
And fell, and bled and bled.
The doctor said he was sorry,
That my wife, she’d be okay, but
That there was nothing to be done
About the young one.
My wife cried much more
Than she had cried 4 months before.
She said she didn’t want to be alone.
“But we are not alone,”
I held her and I said,
“We have God in our midst, we are not alone.”
A week ago,
I put out a sign
That declared ‘Garage Sale’
(Unabashedly, as if mocking us)
And lay out a motley of miniature clothes and objects-
Unused cribs and
Tiny, unworn shoes.
One day ago,
I said all the right things,
And loved and supported her,
And held her through her tears, but
Right now, as I cry
More than I’ve ever cried before,
And ask why I couldn’t be enough,
She is packing up her trunk,
Saying she can’t take it, saying
*“I just want to be alone.”
