No Porch Light to Call Me Home

There are dark cold days when nothing falls into place and my heart drops and my mind spins. I can’t grasp onto anything or anyone. There is no exit from the heavy sorrow that fills and overflows seeping through my pores.

There are slices of light and seconds of sun that lift me and push me upward and allow me to breathe fuller and escape what seems to be the unrelenting noise of my thoughts.

And between these states of dark and light, between the flow of the ocean and the moon rising, I reach out and search for those I’ve lost, those I’ve loved, those I will never touch, see, hug, hold again in this life.

I can’t find them because I don’t know where they are only that they are somewhere around me with me watching over me moving forward with me and forever connected to me.




 
When I close my eyes I see them and sometimes in my dreams I hear them. They are telling me they are okay and they will be there for me, they wait for me, their arms will be open. They will swoop me up and spin me around in circles of love. They tell me to go on living and to enjoy each and every moment and to stop stopping and keep moving.

They tell me to break through the fog and the dusk and wipe my tears, clear my eyes and take a second look, carefully, purposefully searching with hope and promise that eventually, inevitably, comfortably, warmly...

I will find a porch light to call me home.

And there they wait, there; they are exactly how I remember them and as they always will be.