The Territory of Our Bleeding

There's a lot of sadness in our faith community. I have a friend who is hurting beyond all words. A poem I wrote last night. A lament.

There is so much sadness
in the world.
And the edges of it
so icy and sharp--
the territory of our bleeding.
And there a numbness
too cold
for weeping.
But deep inside
the concavity of pain
there is a warmth--
the ache of love--
that thaws all loss
to the torrent and dew
of grief.