By Donna

I built a structure
so large in scale,
its size dwarfed 
the Burj Kalifa.
If I see God from up here,
surely I can see you too.

I made a sound
so brash and loud
it rivaled that
of the Creator’s thunder.
If I can hear God’s
orchestrated rumble,
can I hear yours too.

I cooked a pot
so mouth watering
its flavor captivates even
the ones with sophisticated palates.
If you promise to come back
I’ll cover and set aside a plate for you—
but hurry, it’s getting cold.

I rubbed my hands
together so long
and so hard,
their warmth
charges evil hearts,
heal the sick,
guide the lost,
and held yours in prayer.
If prayer works
we accept it
with all of its flaws.

I created a fragrance
so potent
its aroma brings forth
nostalgic memories of goodness,
and All line up
in a single file,
for thousands of winding miles,
to get closer to it’s scent.
If I smell it, it is real
If I breathe in your scent,
you are real.

I read over 100 books
in 100 days
on topics from
theology to biochemistry;
I understand it all now...
it’s not rocket science...
but I still can’t find the cure.

These unmeasurable portions
of imaginings are distractions;
conjured up
because you are not here;
they represent displaced
energy of equal force
to my love.
But what is to be done
with this energy
after you told me ever so softly
“Let me go…I am not afraid
everyone passes through...
I’ve done what I came here to do”.
But there is so much more
for US to do...
Our Tribe is strong
not because of me,
but because of you—
You surrendered to the pain
leaving me to walk this plain alone
battling my desires against God’s will.

So I keep busy
walking,
breathing,
journaling,
honoring you
in fear the
unstable stillness
puncture
each cell
each tissue
each organ
as the you I love
seeps through,
showing the world
just how vulnerable I am.
I fill each day with doings...
emptying out
buckets of this pain energy.
Not willing now or maybe ever,
to accept what
the Wise Ones say
when a transition happens...
“with life comes death…”.
But with nothing to challenge
those words,
I find myself accepting
your physical presence 
not being here.
Now sleeping in the middle
and not just on my
side of the bed
so I too am acclimating
to my new normal
and
slowly, 
cautiously, 
and reluctantly
letting you go.