Unravelling

‘It’s God’s plan’, they say, 

As I quietly unravel,

Wiping the tears discretely, 

So as not to interrupt

Their conversation. 

I gather memories, images 

Of children I never had

Like star clusters

Sparkling in the black void. 

***

‘It’s God’s plan’, they say, 

As I sidestep the awkward question

About ‘family’, 

As I avoid the baby aisle, 

As I excuse myself

From their playdate arrangements,

As I excuse myself

From society. 

***

‘It’s God’s plan’, they say, 

While I hurl silent prayers

Heavenward,

Asking, hoping, wondering,

If God is still near,

If he has a plan

For this barren existence. 

***

‘It’s God’s plan’, they cry,

And I wonder

How many of them

Would welcome ‘God’s plan’

If he brought such

Devastation

To their lives? 

How many of them

Would reject

Their own cold comfort? 

***

‘It’s God’s plan’, they say,

As I walk away.

I sit with him 

In the evening light, 

Revelling in his beauty,

Sensing his compassion,

Weeping together. 

I revel in his sunset song,

In the rippling of the lake,

And the call of the mother duck

Rejoicing and wailing

Over her ducklings.

I revel in his plans

To shepherd me,

Not forsake me,

To love and comfort me

All the days of my life.