Re-living

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 It all began with this scare

I looked at my calender and my heart leaped into my mouth

I bit my finger and condemned myself on how stupid I've been

Then I prayed, that you make the cup pass over me

Reminding you that even jesus had to spend three days in the grave.

You know you have a way of showing yourself and showing off

I thought the cup passed. Oh I did. 

But it came in another form

My sister bore it

And you think I'd see it differently? 

You're funny though. 

The place of burnt offering smells the same

Regardless of who is lying on the altar

I'm reliving every bit of it-

The same emotions, the same place, the same faces, questions... 

(With a clearer perspective. And it's why I'm thankful that you always insist on the best, even if you have to repeat the circles.) 

The one who is on the theatre table and the one who  is waiting for the news are going through the same heat. 

It's her process. 

It's my process. 

It's our process. 


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