Passed, lost, passed away – words of reverence
Voiced softly, hands on a door left ajar;
Wishful thinking of something more to come
In spite of the drizzle surrounding me.
For if lost, surely one stands to be found,
If passed, forward movement is still implied;
Raindrops masquerade tears flowing freely;
I live on, but with vacancy within.
Stuttered drizzle with forewarning gray clouds
Lends hope they will succumb to the bright sun;
Then, I too, will pass to the light of day
And the reign of drizzle will be no more.
April 29, 2023
A YEAR PASSED AWAY - SYNOPSIS
It has been a year since the love of my life “died” and yet rarely has that word been spoken. Rather, the words passed, passed on, lost, or passed away have been substituted. It took me awhile to understand the reason for this specific use of words, but over time I came to see the commonality in the softness and projection of hope that there is something beyond death.
“How are you doing?” people ask. My response is always paused as I gather enough composure to speak without tears. I then offer this insight: “I am enveloped by a constant drizzle, hoping that one day the sun will overpower this gloom. Then, just maybe, I too, will be able to accept Ken’s passing as movement forward to meet him in another realm one day.”
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