But he never takes away,
It is not in his nature to bereft,
He gives generously, grandly,
Relentlessly, always.
Everlasting, from age to age.

It is balm, they say.
Why is there dismay?
How could you, why should you?
Embrace it like rain.
Absolute no disdain.
But pain, pain, pain.

Heralds these gains.

Will there ever be a day,
when I can grab onto a hand
and run barefooted across the sand.
Without a care in the world,
laughing deeply from my belly,
not just because its what I should do?

Will there ever be a day,
where I can feel the wind ruffling thru my hair,
and I can twirl and dance without a care,
and no sharp pain of grief will catch,
suddenly across my chest?

Will there ever be a day,
when I wake in the morning
and stretch and yawn and feel
the sun shining on my face
without having to self-soothe
and remind myself that now its all safe?

Why cant the past just go away?!

Even now as I sit at the table
the urge comes tickling and nudging -
crawl under the table, hide away;
even though there is no one around
and not even a sound,
of footsteps, or keys, or doors unlocking.