Living Beyond Loss
Her ache
Touches me
Like a run-away train
Longing to be a meandering stream.
Her voice
A soft echo,
The timbre of past life remembering,
Its movement a willow tree's lament.
She walks
Paths unseen by most,
Holding my hand,
Maternal nature unbound.
When sleeping,
The quiet of her breath
Weaves thatched cover,
Securing my storm-filled dreams.
Upon awakening,
Consciousness begs the heart calm,
My spirit fearful of day's dawning.
As a voice fading
Assures me,
Fear not,
There be no light out there
Not already within me.
Yes…
But how dim the light seems
At the moment.
But, oh how wonderful to have experienced all of those wins before the losses, those heady times of love unconditional, until it was. Hold onto your dreams for they are your remembrances of the good times past. You were never Scrooge, so your remembrances at this time of year are so much better.
Ron
And of course healing is a journey that goes on for the rest of the life that is given us. As we heal we grow in strength and bend with the storm like the willow.