Oh how very tenderly, we might wonder
If we could just unlock a door, return,
Back to when we had them close
By some miracle that we have learned.
To drift away, and gently close our eyes
And see them in our mind,
Re-live their voice, the gentle memory
When life with them was kind.

To climb up from the big black hole
The seeping darkness that we feel,
The numb, dead dream so deep within
That every moment steals.
Longing, if we could, but calmly visit
Their grave, to very softly weep,
Then with winsome smile, so gently leave
The sweet nostalgic love to keep.

We hear about processing thoughts
The ones we might be leaning on,
To address the mind-set we have built
And so, somehow move along.
But we hang on to the crippling grief
The knife edge, cutting far too long,
Could something like cognitive therapy help
To give, restore our inner song.

For in one way, we long for the epiphany
The light bulb moment to occur,
When all the grief might quickly lift
And our sight be free from blur.
But in another, we hang on to the fragrance
The closeness of the memory, tight,
Not wanting the goodbye...for
It's far too final, that step into the light.

There might be unsaid issues, that we muse
And wish, could be undone,
For did they go, before we had a chance
To assure them of our love.
Or, they may have left us grieving so
From things they did, and said,
And now it hurts, to e'er remain
Unresolved and unconfessed.

Why did our God then have it so
And how is, forgive, forget,
When there's naught now can be done
To find release from life's regrets.
What blame is where, what change
The mind goes on and on...
Reliving what we wish was true
And all we thought was right or wrong.

But all along we know we're trapped
Though longed for, never free,
Our life, too crippled in relationship and
Work, not as we'd wish to be.
Reality, how can it be faced, to have it so
That a death, can never be our fault,
What sets our every moment, hour
And says, when Earthly days will halt.

To know, we cannot keep a heart alive
God never gave to us, that ask,
There is nothing that we could have done
No more, no less, could we impart
Our every breath is God's to hold
While trust, believe, is ours to grasp
He calls, for He, is where true life begins
When every fear on Him is cast.

For He can heal our troubled soul
If we but seek His peace,
He'll give release, uplifting strength
And set our aching spirit free.
His ever present breath, His joy
Can flood our troubled soul,
He's promised, all the love we need
To restore and make us whole.

Soft Whispers just for you from
Derry's Heart Poems © 2008
E-mail
Poetry from the Heart
Derry's Heart Poems

Jesus says, Cry over your pains,
and you will discover that I'm right
there in your tears, and you will be
grateful for My presence in your
weakness, because God is hidden in the pain.
Henri J. M. Nouwen