Jul 2014
Mourning
Has washed over but it's swelling tide
Does not ebb
Each day dawns in brightness
Many things for which I thank
Surrounded by love, by comfort
Yet even the weight of your arms fall short
This sadness has become a sickness
For which there is no cure
The rose tinted frames I wore before
Are now shadowed
The sun still shines
Birds singing
But it's always raining in my head
Leaking out to form rivers
From where I spring in cathartic feeling
Healing is no process
It is a journey
One that I will follow through this life into the next
Has washed over but it's swelling tide
Does not ebb
Each day dawns in brightness
Many things for which I thank
Surrounded by love, by comfort
Yet even the weight of your arms fall short
This sadness has become a sickness
For which there is no cure
The rose tinted frames I wore before
Are now shadowed
The sun still shines
Birds singing
But it's always raining in my head
Leaking out to form rivers
From where I spring in cathartic feeling
Healing is no process
It is a journey
One that I will follow through this life into the next
Your loss sits unnatural in my chest. Though your weight may be gone from this world, I am left with the heaviness of your leaving.
