For Those Who Wait

We did not ask for this.

We did not set our platters
before Death and beg,
"Please, if you will,
More suffering."
We did not make secret pacts
with our cells in the night,
urging them to darker deeds.
We did not stand
in the middle of the field
and call the lightning down.

Somehow, we were chosen-
As oaks before they are felled,
As fruit, crushed into wine.

And so it is.

So let us choose
To unearth what was once lost to us,
display it, sparkling, on our persons.
To unlock, unbar those doors
that shield us from one another.
To welcome ourselves home again-
grow warm before the fire,
laugh at the lightning,
savor the wine.