You are gone,

but I am here

in the great

alone of life,

eyes fogged

by the blinding warp

of the mirror imperfect,

of this our only known,

unique existence,

not seeing through

to life ever after.

And what am I to do,

but be alone, so alone,

with no place to go

except into the light

of that warp,

my understandings,

continually refractions,

lest I choose

fumbling but not living

in the longest

night of darkness,

the suffering black

of disbelief and mourning?

For He holds out His hand,

and gives me leave

to choose

to the end of this life,

and then again,

for He is the essence

of abiding mercy,

as in this alone,

the alone

of weeping desperation,

I have pressed my nose

to the mirror,

and reveled in

the blessing of

His soothing contemplation.

Copyright 2010,  Jerry W. Engler