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This piece was written for a secular audience and published in a small local paper at easter time. I'd be interested in any comments on it... I'm still taking baby steps in writing and need some affirmation, constructive criticism etc.
Sleep eludes me.
My spirit engulfed by guilt, grief and loss,
I rise before dawn
and walk to the garden alone.
The garden is cool, and the sweet scent of jasmine hangs in the air.
I seek out a secluded place,
and lose myself in thoughts of you.
Defining moments in our relationship,
your words, your touch, your eyes.
I don’t know if I can carry on alone.
The events of the past week
play out in my mind.
From joyous celebration to sudden death.
weak willed bystander,
fair weather friend,
watched from the sidelines, powerless to help you.
I fall to my knees and pray for absolution.
I feel a presence before I hear a sound.
A stranger is here, standing close beside me.
“Who are you?,
What do you want?”, I ask through my tears.
Can’t you allow me some privacy?”
A long moment’s silence,
and then he speaks.
He speaks my name.
I turn and look up in confusion and disbelief.
Is this a someone’s cruel trick, or a ghost?
He should be dead in the grave where we laid him.
But there is no denying the voice,
his sweet voice.
I rise to my feet.
I look once more into the eyes of my beloved.
He gently touches my face,
warm fingers, flesh and blood, not spirit.
Not dead, but alive!
He smiles at me.
No words spoken,
forgiveness offered and received.
Redemption's tears streaming down my face,
I enter his outstretched arms.
The embrace eternal, the touch timeless, the way clear now.
Burden lifted, grace restored, possibilities endless,
I turn, laughing with delight, and run to tell the others.
Lesley-Anne Evans is an aspiring writer, sharing life with her husband and three children in Kelowna. Her passion is to encourage others through her writing. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
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