-- A Sense of Longing and Belonging --

By John Herlihy

You are the noon to my midnight;

In the shadows of the night you are my light.

You are the moon to any darkness near;

In the moonglow of troubled waters, I feel no fear.

You are the sunrise to my twilight;

Whenever I see you, I never see the night.

You are my North Star pointing the way,

Always with guidance to whatever I say.

You are my stalk of wheat in a field of chaff,

The calm that appears in the storm’s aftermath.

You are the whisper in the wind that sings,

Lifted aloft by the lightness of feathered wings.

You are the flaming sword across the winter bay;

Your voice soothes my heart with what you say.

You are my flowering in a field of ragged stones;

Your lingering scent infiltrates this bag of bones.

You are the sweet, lasting memory of all I miss,

A smooth egg, a sparkling coin, perfection in bliss.

You are the ethereal ghost of all that I have lost;

My life tinged in winter chill, framed in lace frost.

I will wait for my life and whatever may remain;

I will wait for my death patiently whenever it came.

I will no longer be in the grip of the devil’s pay;

I will live my life simply and honestly day by day.

I will not ask for anything and take life as it comes;

I will accept all responsibility as I add up my sums.

I will treasure your presence until the day I die;

I will treasure your absence every day that I cry.

Always conscious of the beauty in perpetual longing;

Always conscious of comfort in a sense of belonging.

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(c) John Herlihy 17 November 2018