Poem: Choosing Pain

We sit in that cloistered room.
I pour out my doubts and fears
Heart, mind, and soul.
Together we walk backwards
Analyze, dissect, examine.
I confess my lonely heart
My waiting to act.
“Why?”
he asks.
“Why?”
I inquire of myself.
Because I must feel.
Because I am who I am.
Because I must.
“Fair,”
he says,
“But know this truth.
This dark, lonely truth:
You choose the pain.”
An enormous peace
Falls upon my heart.
God speaks through this man.
I choose the pain
Because I must.
Because I am who I am.