After The Water Receded

I’ll begin with asking for forgiveness.
My body failed you.

My own creation, so uneventful, as told
by my Mother,

as if life has no mystery at all. Some have 
claimed breath breathed

into dust shaped man on the sixth day, 
yet there are

some who argue proof of existence 
began with a combustion

of elements. Why didn’t someone 
tell me upon which altar

I should have laid sacrifice? The science
of creation surrounds me

except the miracle of two hearts beating
in one being.

I’m sorry that you’ll never know
how rain soothes

as it falls upon a tin roof or how
delicious it feels 

to have late afternoon sun warm 
cold hands while

chasing falling leaves or how the
fuzz on ripe peach

skin tickles the tongue. I have 
no answers to why

some vessels are unable
to carry water.