Never in history,
the trajectory of mysterious occurrences
could be guessed or read linearly.
For even rain falls when
it feels it should arrive.
The alchemy of empathy is intelligent,
and so far, voluptuously intuitive—
selfless, yet in possession of great temper.

The eternal mother of ‘coup de grâce’
sweeps tears from our eyes,
once again meeting us on the return
of having faith in ourselves,
when we could fall,
if life felt, to the extreme, forlorn.