My mother's death was my induction Into death as my introduction To mortality's reality When the pain of being orphaned then In the rain was what I felt again And again no matter how fast I ran My grandmother's death turned out to be Catalytic of catastrophe When it all went wrong then on so long How I survived now and have arrived Here is fearfully unclear to me Though here I am doing the best I can But supposing there is a reason I have chosen my winter season To story the days of my glory The any of days that are many To be being free by poetry Because the child within outgrew the man Though I am an orphan I have this Another form of my mother's kiss Steven Curtis Lance