Forebearance

Forbearance

It was a silicon chipped conception,
a connection of wires--silence broken by an unexpected gentle knocking
at my wide webbed door, a chance encounter of two, separated by smiles
of wires, each sharing the desire to end the vitriolic void.
Early on, an angelic, harmonious chord was heard.

Inquisitive keystrokes, words traversing a global arc,
eagerly received, inducing the happy mania of new love.
The glass slipper fit perfectly, and we laughed, oh, how we laughed.
From our balanced bond, we 'knew' and from that, our secreted and treasured seed began to grow.
With each passing day, it was easy to take each other's breath away.

Our natural union swirled and brewed and when drunk with possibility and inconversant passion, our zygote of celestial grace, our hope of a healthy,
strong and long-lasting love linked us in eager and fertile anticipation.
Thrilled

We sang the lullabies, hummed the tune of words long forgotten.
As beloveds, we dreamed long ...long before our genesis, to and beyond our worldly departure.
We nurtured our Love, unsparingly providing it a diet far richer than all of basic and crucial comforts,
In our hearts, we prepared a nest in the future.
We shared and cared; aching with real Love and with belly swelling,
hands yet to touch, eyes yet to see, and kisses yet to lose ourselve in.
We were keenly aware that for our progeny to breathe its first gasp, we must first endure a long and arduous journey of Time.
The presence of that obstacle hung like a heavy shroud-- .
Anxious expectation became impatience and soon tainted the safe atmosphere of the amniotic.
Time stood still as it always does when you have the most to spare. Steeping,..

Without forecast, the feverish impassioned whirling stopped,
Reality set in like a hard winter and we rolled over
finding warmth as two, instead of one.
The hibernation began; the breathing slowed
and set the shallow beat of our cold survival,
not dead, but vitals frozen.

The silence was deafening, the heartbeat undetectable.
In our dreams we stood guard, listening for sounds
of the horsemen; an unwelcome miscarriage
riding deftly on the life ending contractions of
lost purpose.