a trice or two

gentle moments catch us unaware

draw us into knowing we share

something deeper than words

shifts into catching our breath

the ululation of screech owls

claws raw the wounds of loss

while mourning doves coo companionable comfort

a sunbeam pierces thunderhead

to light a path between heaven

and earthling and soft peace settles

on a mourning gasp

moments without preparation

startle us into assurance

beyond grief or fear, if only

for that instant