who will grieve
my going
who will make the bed –
or worry for a season
to things I should
have said
who will speak
my name aloud –
o’er rivers deep and cold
in places not yet written
to my soul
with promise cleft
by secrets sworn
beneath a jealous moon –
when first I died
ten thousand deaths
for you
who will weep
who will pray –
for moments almost come
for sunlight
where the night has been
for stars who mourn
alone
. . .
Deep and artistically subtle!
Thank you.…….my sweet ❤
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
Lovely! This really speaks to me!
I am so glad……..and so honored ❤
I will …….🤍
I know you will………