waiting for you to be what follows
when the lump in my throat dissolves.
When I finally check off everything on my to-do list,
for you to be
there with hand outstretched,
inviting me on an adventure.
Wishing that your presence
on my contacts list,
the last words we sent across the web
still visible,
frozen in time like your pixelated smile,
meant that I need only push a button
and wait for your response.
The ache of emptiness is its vastness.
the unquenchable yearning for it to be filled by something remembered,
something treasured.
Feeling the value
of what cannot be held.
Finding the fullness
hidden in every breath,
wisdom whispering at the edges,
like the echo of your laugh.
Abiding in the patient expectancy
of a life beholden
to cycles and seasons,
comings and leavings,
birthings and dyings,
I cannot help but look for you
when the spin stops
and my eyes turn to sky.
when my heart wonders who to call
to remind me of what is true.
But as wind can only be seen
by the way it dances the trees,
you only appear
in the salty warmth of my cheeks,
my poignant smile of gratitude
my pen on paper, witnessing
the unburdening of a heart
that is bereft, and full, and following,
dissolving,
offering to life through art.