Lightening strikes
illuminate just before the damage
no less bright or dangerous
this child of mine
I reach out, yearning, hopeful
(but not unflinching)
willing to walk in the storm
to ease her loneliness

recalling my own years
on that precarious edge of raging depression
slipping and sliding but never falling in
content to leave a question mark in my wake
a mystery even to myself

as i pray, truly, for my daughter, for myself
i remember how hard it is
to tell a void from an infinite space
and the relief that comes from learning
they are one and the same.