Ritual

Strange, these rituals of ours
These words that emerge from the silence
Speculations, fears, anxieties
We think and fret
Try to uproot the problem
Yell, cry, fall to quiet sobbing whispers
I don’t know.  I don’t know...
But there is love, or else why would we worry
Why else would we put ourselves through this grief
All seems lost, uncertain

Then the cloud passes
And I find myself laughing
For we are just jumping at shadows again
Working ourselves into a panic for nothing
And I smile
Because I know that there was
     nothing wrong in the first place
And that we have only managed
     to reaffirm what was already there
To push away all doubt
     and come put stronger than before
It has happened before and will again
And all will be just fine in the end.

-February 3, 2002

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