From Eat the Document, by Dana Spiotta:
"...to be a human is to be perpetually insecure,
always edging on death, chaos, the uncontrollable.
Being a mother made this apparent. And you get this
small window where you can give your child a feeling
of unconditional security, no matter how much fear
you feel. In creating this sanctuary for you child,
you feel comforted in your own anxiety."
Ahhhhh....I remember dark winter evenings
of the past, the boys asleep, the husband snoring
in front of the television, the furnace clicking on, off.
The house buttoned-up tight. That sense of security,
vulnerable as we were behind such flimsy doors,
locks that could be kicked in with a modicum of effort.
How important it was to believe, at least
for the duration of the night, that we would greet
the sunrise (inevitably grey) with that same
glow of safety about us. The roof in place.
The house still bolted to the foundation.
The universe intact. How, not believing
would make existence unbearable.
This is the beginning of faith, and trust.
T, you do write so beautifully. Prose poem.
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