Being Called Interiorly Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Being called interiorly, hearing whispers coming from
heavenly angels, needing help from vantage points here
on earth.

Sensing the needs of others interiorly and finding a
way to be there for the times they will need me,
calmly living through their periods of tender and
fragile grief.

Watching their emotions tie themselves around their
minds, lacing thoughts with the presence of death in
their lives.

Leaving them totally bereft in their solemn loneliness
and never heeding all the voices around them centering
from caring hearts.

Unable to see them, because of their intense sorrow in
abandoned tears of hopeless emptiness.

Falling into the holes left after losing the loves of
their lives here on earth's bereft shores.

Desires abounding for the presence of those beyond
their grasp until it is their time to become non-
existent also.