Double Rainbows
Test after test — those two blue lines.
With them, our fading hopes retreat.
“It’s basically your period,” he said.
My heart pulls tight, wrapped up in vines.
“I’m too old,” whispers the voice in my head.
A test to prove the doctor wrong.
A test to mark a dream now gone.
In moments like these, I feel heavy with dread.
When life ends, does longing disappear?
This ache for what may never be —
Am I the end of my family tree?
Where is my rainbow after the rain clears?
“Try again,” another voice calls.
But if I try, will my strength prevail?
I’m not sure I can walk that trail.
Now I know a different feeling when that honored day again befalls.
Two rainbows shimmered as I stepped out to eat.
A sign I didn’t recognize that day —
That life was finding its quiet way.
A week later, I learned my heart would not stay incomplete.