I live my life through the words I write
A year has gone by
without you here.
The pain, the sorrow, the longing
feels as fresh today
as one year ago.
I sit in community
with all who knew and loved you
as we remember
your smile, passion, love;
I can hear your laughter
ringing out and through the first snow.
We mourn you.
We miss you.
We love you.
What if
the last time I saw you
will really be
the last time?
Turn off the clocks,
divert time away from these
external constructs of time
dictating arbitrary guidelines
for when things should be done.
The time of day matters not
if you do what you love,
if you tune into the body
and let it tell you
when things should happen.
To live in the moment
no matter the time of day
offers value
immeasurable by numbers.
Measure in presence,
truth, and love.
When I imagine
how his shoulders would feel beneath her hands
how his arms would flex beneath the cotton
the pressure his hand would apply to her hips
as he leads her across the dance floor,
I remember how you led me.
You were the river
eroding shorelines
constantly flowing.
I believed
I could stand on the sandbar
in the middle
and you wouldn’t hurt me.
You swept me up
and into the current
proving how helpless
I was all along.
I held on to you for years
believing that if I did not,
the electrifying joy you brought to me
would leave with you
and leave me dark and dull.
For years
I believed you were
my source of joy.
It wasn’t until you faded away
and at last I cut the rope
I found a similar joy
in someone else.
For always,
you will be the one
who first brought to me that electrifying joy,
but not the only.
I loved you
before I even knew what love was
though I never told you.
I wonder if you got the hint, though,
from the smiles, timed laughter
and how I always seemed to be there
where you were.
Probably not.
I thought I knew what love was then
and even now
I laugh
because half the time
I still don’t know what love is.
If I had known then
what I know and understand now
I would have treated you better.
I know this to be true.
But that was then,
and nothing I do now
can change the way
I broke us
and broke you.
You ran away with my light
hours away
into a thick, dark forest
where I could not trace you.
Then, you gave it to him
so I could chase after him instead,
who held it for mere minutes
before passing it on again.
Now, my light is constant
burning bright through the night
amidst occasional flickers,
like lights do.
Where is your light now,
who does it burn for?
It gets easier with time,
I know that
I see that
I feel.
When it’s so hard at the beginning
‘easier’ seems impossible to reach
but it just takes time.
Sometimes, a long time.
I have always arrived there before,
eventually,
and I believe I will again.
Dawning Words 