Holding my breath… till my daughter’s home; five long years ago, she left. Choked by worry – I’m never free; of all joy I am bereft. If by breathing I’ve offended the gentle balance of her heart, I’ll faint before she feels estranged; grieving is a subtle art. Desperate to see the child I once knew, crying at the slightest hint she won’t come home till the red moon shines; I can’t function till love wins. Longing, aching, dying, till her heart comes back home to our embrace; her shell dwells here, the one whose parents yearned to glimpse her precious face. Uncuff my world; my wings have been clipped. Our fates are tightly intertwined. Then I’ll exhale, drink in sweet relief, and reclaim my splintered mind.
I feel your pain.
A greif like no other. X
Suffering, less poetically, with you.
Thank you for this precious offering that gives expression to our grief.