Wednesday, September 4, 2013


There is a hollow space now where my heart used to beat,
the reason for its beating taken away by a cruel nature.
There is a severe aching feeling that will not go away
like walking around with a sword stuck deep into your bowels.

Your impression still resides in our bed's fading sheet.
The smell of your hair that we cut off sends me into rapture.
Your clothes, your photos, your vanity dresser all say
to me you are still amongst us but cause me to send up sorrowful howls.

Your urn glows strangely in the shifting light from the open shade.
Walking down the hall towards our bedroom is still a bit hard.
There, blessedly, you took your last breath in your own bed
surrounded by all of your children and me.

Your spirit still seems to flit about our house, whose decor you made.
Whose every inch you touched, where you worked out in the yard,
where you talked so sweetly that everyone listened to everything you said,
where your beauty and poise was a sight for all to see.

The flowers flowing over the coffee table served to indicate the love so many had for you,
now their lives emptier also.
How to go forward?  One step at a time, painful as they are.
Forward into the unknown without you; time alone can heal.

mindbringer, 3 September 2013