I speak of her in superlatives
that are tragically in the past tense.
When the wisdom you gain with age
illuminates only failure patterns you can’t break
When progress becomes finding flaws
that have no solutions
Faith becomes a suspicious option.
How ironic that the most sacred thing you are left with
is a spiritual investment that can only pay off when you’re dead,
and the superlatives about life
are always in the past tense.