At The Line

At the Line

She stood where life

leaned trembling against death,

where the world held its breath

and refused to choose a side.

She stood angry—

angry at the Lord,

angry at Gods,

angry at the universe

for daring to reach

for the one she loved.

But she did not move.

Though the weight of him

was more than hundreds of pounds,

though fear pressed harder

than bone and breath,

she wrapped her arms around him

with a strength no scale could measure.

She grabbed him from the darkness,

lifted what should have been impossible,

and carried him back

toward the narrow shore of living.

Her hands became a promise.

Her heart became a bridge.

And when the world said,

“Let go,”

She answered,

“Not today.”

So let heaven remember her.

Let the stars speak her name.

Let every silent corner

of the universe confess:

There are moments

when love becomes stronger than gravity, stronger than death,

when courage rises taller than fear,

when one soul refuses

to surrender another.

Her name is Susan—

and because she stood there,

because she held on,

because she would not move,

a life remained.

The one she loves now still remains