It was a sacred conversation
in hushed tones
between two ladies wearing aprons
working in the kitchen.
They shared stories
of their loved ones
who suffered with maladies
that so readily
visit on this planet
of challenges and woes.
It was a sacred conversation
between two mothers,
and in the words
and in the frowns
came small smiles–
a parting of the clouds,
a slant of sunshine,
your troubles are not mine,
and mine are not yours,
but by the sacred conversations
our hearts become lighter.
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