I dream my sisters all gang up on me:
they hold a secret meeting and decide
to throw me out of the family, a vote
they’re quick to point out is unanimous,
stripping me of my rank of sisterhood
for faults I’d rather not list—the gist being
that I am undeserving (which is true),
selfish, stinting, inclined to blurt things out,
which now compels me to defend myself,
using a phrase I read in a story
that goes something like this: we are saved
not because we are worthy but because
we are loved, and not just automatically
by God, who has to love us, but by kin
who don’t. And so, my sisters’ rejection
is like Adam’s expulsion, only worse,
as he was promised future redemption,
but what redeeming purpose can there be
when my own sisters disinherit me?
The night of my dream was not a good night.
I wanted to call my sisters and find out
if any such meeting had taken place
behind my back. But it was past the hour
when they would welcome phone calls. So I lay
in darkness wondering what becomes of us
when we’re beyond the pale of human love?
How can we earn the love that can’t be earned
or make someone respond the way we want?
And lying there, I heard their voices call
from deep reserves of love, Have faith, sister!