There's loss on my hands
And silly me thought my hands were empty
I look at them, filled with loss
Weren't they once filled with laughter?
With smiles, with mischief, even with anger?
Where did all of them go and wherefrom did they bring this 'loss'?
Strangely, loss leaves me feeling empty, even when it keeps my hands full
Now that she is no more, she has left, filling it with more of herself
I open my hands and touch it's fullness with a feeling of emptiness
A teardrop falls and I caress it, aching with its sadness
Like a hot coal, I drop it and wish I could drop her too
More teardrops fall, I cup them all lovingly
My heart weeps silently as I hold onto tender memories of a dear departed friend.
There's loss on my hands but victory in my heart, a wonderful presence in a woeful absence.
© nobody