New Widow's Song of Faith
The bed, white sheet over my head
Is not your casket, but it’s cold
now. canvas of precious memories
Soaking into my skin. I live within
Them now, without you, gone baby gone
To wherever sad place heaven is,
For you must be grieving me too.
Here, these tears, and offering to God
Of heaven and the hell of lonely pillow
Where your stormy snores resonate
In my forever silence. I summon
This music but the song can no longer
Be sung. And so I lay cloaked in
The quiet thoughts to fresh to bear.
There is no answer, the universe
Is cold that way, even from God,
But because I have to believe
I cry, by faith to keep from dying,
In my bed
For another poem like this one, check out 'Journey to the End of Our World'