Pondering Life

Life is fragile.

I stroke the downy cheek of my newborn son,

and press him close to my heart.

Wonder suffuses me, for

life is fragile.

Life is brittle.

I watch the black clumps of Kansas soil

falling into my grandma’s grave.

Sadness consumes me, for

life is brittle.

Life is brief.

I reach under the table for my husband’s

hand, we smile companionably.

Gratefulness fills me, though

life is brief.

Oh, cherish your time! For life

is so fragile,

so brittle,

so brief.


I wrote this poem after my grandma died in 2007. Many more special people have died since then, and also many special people have lived. I hold my loved ones close in my heart, not in fear, but in knowing that they are truly a gift.

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