In one swift stroke
The sharp scalpel of sudden loss
Slices away soul calluses,
Exposing quick and tender heart beneath.
Laughter and tears alike
Bubble over more quickly now,
Her glad tidings, his courageous witness,
Every family celebration,
New thorn of affliction,
Persistent pierce of the old
That had become normal—
All sting as they prod
That raw place
Left by loved one lost.
Each "first" passes with wistful weeping
And the ache of remembrance.
The soul accrues fresh calluses
To shelter the quick and tender heart
From the vicissitudes of postlapsarian life,
Until the scalpel strikes again,
Until the woman's Seed shatters it in pieces
And wipes away all tears,
Our hearts made whole.
The long night shortens.
Soon we shall weep no more.