I keep company with what I know
I cannot predict or control.
Every second for sure, but I forget,
mercifully.
My reaction, my intention, my hopes, yes,
but nothing else.
I check as if reading a thermometer.
More energy today mom?
How’s your appetite?
Pain?
She finally asks me to stop.
It matters though,
this false sense of knowing a thing, as if…
I knew the future.
We are quieter together,
very much ourselves,
a walking patience.
Cancer grows or shrinks beyond
what we can measure day by day,
beyond what we understand,
so we wait.
I had no idea I could feel quiet
in the visible presence of uncertainty.