August 15, 2015
I woke up this morning without you—
A shell of the woman I was just hours ago.
Your keys and wallet on the table
Tell my mind you are still here,
But my heavy heart and hollow limbs
Say otherwise.
I want to call out to you with hope--
Hope you will answer--
But I fear the blaring silence and
Steady ticking of the clock that
Replace your anticipated reply.
And yet…
Somehow…
I feel your tender touch when my
Hungry arms reach for yours,
Craving the comfort of a full embrace.
I woke up this morning without you.
And though I’m not ready,
I sense your “This-is-The-Plan” whisper in my heart,
Bringing with it an unwelcomed peace--
A peace that’s forcing me to accept that
While my first day without you
Was filled with emptiness
And fraught with tears,
It may not compare to the pain that lies ahead.
So forgive me in the upcoming days
When I pretend you are still here
By opening drawers, caressing pillows, and
Immersing myself in your shirts
Still hanging in the closet.
It will be my way of reminding myself
That though our dance was interrupted too soon,
The music still plays;
Though you have been called to watch from afar,
I have been asked to dance alone.
Christine C. Thompson
