A Well-Shaded Place

you were never miscarried.

you were carried

by love,

cradled in the sacred

fires of creation.

you traveled rich

in lives i imagined.

from mountain snow

to wooded stream,

to ocean and beyond,

where you brought me your name.

i know it now,

and will whisper it

through the hurt

buried at the tree line

under the yellow trillium.

i’ll carry you,

tender joy,

bright red

dropped

on fresh snow

graced never to fall.