Monday, June 22, 2009

to a friend, on the death of her father

there are days where life
seems to stretch out like a
great plain, endless expanse
melting into the horizon

this is not one of those days

today is a fresh amputee
cut down to a stump of sadness
the expected assassinated
while we slept and awakened

to the now and the not here

let us cling to each other
like refugees like orphans
he is not here but we are
we are here together

and we cannot stop the pain

only share it and trust
as we hold each other
that we are being held
across death and dimensions

by the beautiful broken hands of God

Peace,
MIlton

4 comments:

Sarah said...

amen.

deb said...

hard to type words in the space where silence and prayer are

Sarah said...

My goodness what a beautiful poem. Thank you so much for sharing it.

Texaco said...

really, really wow