Instead of anger, we said: we will find
old trails through mountains refusing passage.
Instead of sorrow, we said: even God’s tears
are too hot for the caldera our hearts.
Instead of hunger, we said: now you will feel
your large intestines consuming the small.
Instead of fear, we said: not even your hands
can cut off our greater desire for air.
Instead of perhaps, someday room at the table, we said: if
the yeast goes to work, everything should rise with the dough.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.