There is beauty in agony.
The angle of the fading sun spotlighting horses on a hill
The absence of pain between excruciating contractions
The way the air is sucked out of the room as the ailing takes her last breath
The chances, possibilities
- that never existed when there was no pain,
no reason to take risks,
Only a stasis that lured us into settling.
There is no proverbial gain without the pain.
Acute, clarifying, sharp —
We never want it, but would stay the same without it.
Chopping Potatoes 
that never existed when there was no pain,
no reason to take risks,
Love is full of pain, we love to loved.
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True. And need to, to survive . . .
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Beautiful agony.
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