I said: How can I escape?
With the freed sighs to forget
The dark and creeping heave?
Where could he be, at this hour
When such unwelcome wolves at the door,
And breath waits on battered resignation?
I heard someone say, of exiles at the Holocaust,
how they heard he was with them there
On his cross, sharing it with them.
I sighed again, and went deeply inward
Into where the sadness lurked,
In the small curved fetal pose.
In the trembling warmth and the tremor,
The rhythmic sound of tensed nostrils,
I sat with him, both of us alone in the darkness
But for each other. Amen.