Early mourning......
As I left this morning, I heard a mourning dove cooing on the street lamp post in the front of our home. I had to stop and marvel him for a moment before I left for my busy day. I love mourning doves. I used to love to be awakened by them first thing at my grandmother’s house when I was little.
Tonight as I sit watching television, I also notice you smile at the stupid commercials, and silly programs.
Your smile could light a tunnel. I don’t see that smile much anymore. It's been taken from you and I don't know why.
Digging into your sacred niches of sunshine and looting the grin from your face.
When I say I’m sorry for your sadness, it doesn’t begin to express the depth of my anguish for you. I feel tired for you. I recognize the drawn expression etched in your beautiful profile, and I taste the swallow of the tears that pool in the corners of your eyes,
burning and flooding
your once rosy cheeks.
Half of you speaks in smiles. The other half is paralyzed with the stain of your virtue, and the pluck of your shadow. You are a fragment of the woman you were before that heinous reality of life knocked you down.
I fear you will never laugh genuinely again. And I hate how your thoughts make you feel knowing that nothing you write, and no amount of tears will ever make a difference , or more importantly.......make you whole. You're missing something.
Your father will never be sorry. He will never be a victim. He will never place value in or around you because he isn't here anymore for you. I am saddened that his death has stripped you of your charisma, your dignity, and your carefree ability to love without regard.
But mostly,
I grieve your heart,
with its relentless beat
that keeps you moving.
Because I know you want to curl up and cease to exist.
And as selfish as it is,
if it did stop pumping,
I would die.
I heard a mourning dove when I left the house today.
I’m sure he was singing your name.
Love Always....yourself.
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