What is it like,
O Seraphim and Cherubim
to be seated around the source
of all beauty, joy, and love
and receive news
of great sadness;
the loss of hoped for
beauty, joy, and love?

I received the news
sitting on the hills
of Falcon Ridge
a place of beauty, joy, and love,
where angles rub shoulders
with sinners
and the Creator’s creatures
create.

The third time’s the charm
she thought to herself
as her egg,
fertilized in a petri dish
began to grow
in her womb.

As her hope grew
they painted the nursery
planned the baby shower
and prepared the schedule
of visiting relatives
coming to celebrate and help.

In her twenty-sixth week
after achieving viability,
she felt, what seemed at the time
unbearable pain.

Then the water broke.

Hope and fear
ebbed and flowed
that first week in the hospital
as friends prayed
and shared words of encouragement.
Then came the greatest grief and pain.

Stillborn.

I lift up my eyes to the hills
as a full moon rises
over the verdant beauty
as a songwriter sings
of sharing
beauty, joy, and love
simply, with neighbors.

What is it like,
O Seraphim and Cherubim
to be seated around the source
of all beauty, joy, and love
and receive news
of great sadness?

It is more than mere mortal minds
can comprehend.