Perhaps we rushed into each other’s arms too quickly--
Hungry for details, thirsting for trivia--this and that about each other.
But there we were. Feeding, nourishing, filling, digesting
Each other.

We, who were once joined by umbilical cord, were now joined by heart.
Laughter, warmth, belongingness, became a part of us in a joyful way.
In spite of the missing years that severed and shaped us,
We renewed and embellished each other with our love.

Then a sinister something loomed on our landscape.
First tiny pins pricked, then knife wounds laid us bare, as
We sparred in each other’s minds, frolicked in each other’s fields,
Not knowing they were laced with mines of our own making.

We began to step carefully, then recklessly, through the mined fields.
And we collected the damaged pieces of ourselves as though they were
pennies carelessly tossed aside, keeping score:
Who had the most pennies ? Who was winning, losing?

Hearts were sacrificed in that field, like so much chaff.
Words became weapons.
Love became indifference.
We became unrecognizable to each other.

Then suddenly the lightning, the chilling lightning, struck.
It lit the anger and the fear; it melted the solemn promise:
"I will never leave you."
The cold brilliance of it forced the injured child-mother to her knees--
Crouching, spitting, clawing. Screaming. Alone.

Gingerly crawling toward each other in the fog that settled on them like death,
Mother and child, with fragile hope and wounded love,
Tried to touch, to reach, to restore what was lost.
But clouded eyes and darkened hearts kept them from seeing each other and
Who they once were.
Who they were now.