I feel the wind ever blowing,
So strong on the open sea,
The aroma of salt
In the morning air,
Mindless vision
In every degree.
I am forever plagued by the questions,
Answers are much more elusive
To me,
And when friends suggest
That I talk to the dead;
The answers are difficult to believe.
But we are delivered onto this planet in a fog,
From the loins of our mothers we arrive,
Basic lessons are imparted along the way,
All designed to help us survive.
My heart and soul, however,
Remain troubled,
As I am curious about my destiny,
The important questions
Must be trusted to faith,
If we are to gain any measure of peace.
So my essence screams mightily
To the rolling waves,
As I beg the Master of the Seas,
Please ameliorate the pain
In my broken heart,
And allow me to dry my eyes.
Can the voice in my thoughts
Be named?
Do I reach beyond the veil?
Can the words that I hear
Be trusted?
Are they truth
In every detail?
And now you are there,
In this place of boundless mystery,
And I hope to hear the sound of your voice;
The tone, the timbre,
And the cadence I know,
Wise words
Rising above the noise.
And once again I am left
With the questions,
The fleeting truths that I hope to record,
In my failing memory
I’ll delude myself,
That you are there,
By my side,
At my core.
Share
Print
Save
Comfort and Blessings to you Frank! Jasmin Horst
I like the image you paint of your delusion-- that he's there by your side, at your core-- I swear it's no delusion. You can feel them linger, like a sweater around your shoulders, comforting, until you find your footing, and the fog clears a bit. Then the sweater evaporates, but the sense of comfort does not entirely fade... it will be okay. Delusions or not, comfort is a mighty fine medicine...I'm no doctor like you, but I'd say it's not unhealthy. I think God gives us small comforts like that because He knows we need them. He knows. --Charlie
I can hear the pain in your cry.
I wrote a poem for you, and many others who are dealing with loss, but there were so many to name I gave up trying and dedicated it solely to my dear friend, Julie, who recently lost her husband to suicide.
I hope you will find comfort in my poem... A Hole in my Heart.
I am sure that both of your father's, your Heavenly Father and earthly father, will hear your cries and answer in their own unique ways. You are not alone...
May you find peace for your unanswered questions...
Cryssa
Everyone questions; wonders. I agree with Kerry, below: listen for the voice that tells you, Be still, know that he (and HE) misses you, too. Poignantly moving, beautiful lines.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
If you are very still and listen only with your heart...you will hear your Father's comforting words..be still, my son and remember me.
As always...peace to you in your time of sorrow,
Kerry