ALREADY NOT YET
Lights
hang around the trees and halls,
and the days are slowly growing shorter.
Shades
of familiar recollection
and the smell of evergreen.
But a foreign ache creeps in.
There’s an empty chair where she used to be,
now all that’s left is a memory easing my sleep.
The warmth of the fire can only thaw the skin,
there’s a bitter frost persisting as the tears trickle in.
If some things never change, why can’t this be one?
It’s just not the same with her gone.
Odd
how the branches hold the weight
of childhood glued on paper plates.
We
took for granted the last year
before he health was gone.
And the bedside visit was all.
There’s an empty chair where she used to be,
now all that’s left is a memory easing my sleep.
The warmth of the fire can only thaw the skin,
there’s a bitter frost persisting as the tears trickle in.
If some things never change, why can’t this be one?
It’s just not the same with her gone.
To hurt is to have
loved in a lasting way.
Death won’t last forever,
but it stings for a day.
The first year without her,
though it may sound odd to some,
was easier because I knew
she was at your throne.
You know what it’s like
to lose the one you love.
In my moments of isolation
I’m never alone.
When the lamb returns
for the glory set before Him,
He’ll wipe away every tear
from our eyes.
If some things never change, I’m glad your love is one.
You’ll be with us then, when she’s home.