I keep trying to stand under
The confusing volley of cries
From this baffling baby we created
As I plead with her with my eyes.

I keep trying to stand under
This weight of being a nurse
It grows as I comfort a mother
Whose cancer has cruelly grown worse.

I keep trying to stand under
My ever-changing role as his wife
This mouth, despite effort, oft untamed
Leaves blisters and cuts like a knife.


I kept trying to stand under
Getting "adult daughter" right
The fear of two parents aging
Keeps me laying awake at night.

I keep trying to stand under
Being the youngest sister of two
She pushes me out when I shirk underneath
Saying, "My shadow was not made for you."


I keep trying to stand under
This dwindling checking account
Monthly bills distort my focus
Wasting too many minutes to count.

I keep trying to stand under
Owning a dog now on year nine,
For five of those we were without husband and child,
Now you look at me longingly from last in line.


I keep trying to stand under
This need to "look good" in the buff,
The scale drowns out my heart crying out
Beating wildly yelling, "I am enough!"


I keep trying to stand under
My faith failing what I say and do
I fear the day Jesus might look down and say,
"You don't get why I died for you."

How lovely just to step out from under,
Let go of cracks I struggle to mend.
Instead gifting myself sweet grace as I go,
Perhaps then I would finally
Understand.



Cynthia Herron
Fort Worth, Texas