Each night
I lay my head upon this pillow,
I am consumed by thoughts of you;
when you would lie next to me,
your arm around my waist,
drawing me near..
Our hearts would find their rhythm
and beat as one.
Long moments later,
my eyes finally find their way
to that place of dark slumber;
where there is no pain,
no sorrow,
no missing you.
These days,
that side of the bed
is full of books,
and mementos,
and memories of you.
The chill in the air lingers,
and it takes longer to get warm..
Each night,
I patiently wait for darkness
to envelop me,
to warm me,
to soothe me..
like your arms once did.
I dream
the same dream every night..
I am in the ocean of your eyes,
standing upon its jagged rocks,
fighting the wind;
and I hold up a lantern,
in hopes that it may guide your way..
.. back.
“I said to my soul,
be still and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for the wrong thing;
wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing;
there is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.”
~ T.S. Eliot