Grief

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I hear a voice
in the other room.

I assume it is
his family
imitating him.

I look through
the slots that
split the kitchen
from the dining room.

A future thanksgiving,
or is it a past?

There he is,
I see the back
of his head.

Then I wake.

Quickly, I lift up
the pitcher
of my heart.

A prayer
for filling
the missing
space.

He coats it.

*this was a dream of my biological father who has gone to heaven. As I step outside of the dream and look in from another's eyes, I can see that other's may see a parallel to Our Father in heaven. His family can imitate His voice. I remember that God showed Moses his back. Memories of moments with God can remind us how empty we are without our awareness upon Him. He can fill when we ask. I am grateful for his filling.

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