AEONS AND SAGES
I can give you no children this time.
Yet I am pregnant with your love.
Our gift to life
is nurtured in warmth
of winter evenings and lamplit pages…
history distilled here in rooms
safe for a time of growing.
You read of brave visionaries
and watch modern day news…
and come to the question between.
Dimly we know, we two,
that in me your trust, so carefully tendered,
finds answer and soft shelter
as we walk through the days
of this our morningtime…
noontime…
eveningtime…
toward such bright birthing.
How far we can see…
through suns and moons
as the earth keeps turning
from love to love, aeons and sages:
As we are here to warm ourselves,
Again we eat our bread together.
--Barbara Smith Stoff
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