nostalgia

Recapturing moments through broken glass—  Where splintered time and shadows pass, each shard holds a ghost, a frozen frame, of love, of loss, of whispered name. 

Plagued with visions of your laugh, your love, your smile.

And all the arguments we had, now seem so juvenile.

My mother, my father, you were and always will be.

Your love, your compassion, your efforts, are forever etched within me.

The pain of your absence lingers,

no relief despite my prayers.

My beating heart is out of rhythm,

left struggling to find the snare.

Seconds crawl to

to minutes,

minutes drag their feet, hours slump like drunks against the morning's gray defeat.

I ask God nightly, 'Why did You take them away?'  Silence answers, cold and gray, yet I kneel again to pray.

Leaving me shattered and broken, unsure of where the pieces belong.

Faintly, hearing whispers, encouraging me to remain strong.

As a child, I stayed hidden under your wings,

protected and safe, nothing could harm me.

Now I'm afraid, alone, and in fear of everything.

Yearning for comfort, seeking the love only parents can bring.

It seems God has distance for my dreary circumstance.

My cries left unheard, in a state of irrelevance.