I meet you again,
A friend from ages past,
A well-wisher,
A person who has prayed for my distress.
I come to comfort,
To tell me or show me your compassion.
You take the time and offer the gift
Of acknowledgement.
I spend a lot of my energy these days
‘holding it together’...
It’s ok to cry -
but it incredibly inconvenient
if you have to deliver a report or two...
A kind friend, one who has been to this place,
Asks the key question:
When do you miss him most?
The morning - first thing,
When we could cuddle in bed, drink a cuppa,
Pray together, plan the day.
He reminded me of purpose and work,
foci to keep the days in order...
Reasons to get up -
because your need something now.
He shared the experience of being able to shout.
How wonderful to be able to cry out
to stars and sun,
to trees and paddocks,
To eternal witnesses
Of love and longing.
This story is not only mine,
although it is deeply personal.
It is the human story
of the consequence of love...
Dear Bard, you wrote of love and loss,
So perhaps you shared it too -
the joy and despair of humanity?
© A A Koh-Butler, 2020
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for visiting, I look forward to hearing from you.
When making a comment, please remember this is a site frequented by young people and those who may not be up with your jargon.