Loss… The Sting Of Parting… Poem by Adrian Wait

Loss… The Sting Of Parting…

I Awake to sound
I had fallen asleep too
Shipping forecast, Bewilders
For a moment caught
Between two worlds
Never knowing if believing
Is a blessing or a curse?
For a point in every direction
Is the same as no point at all?
Borderline of yesterday crossed
Today the moments to fill
Silence, silence more silence
Another day without you
A void I cannot fill, threatens
Our daily pattern has gone
Your company your presence, stolen
Silence denies it was even here
One upturned bowl, one spoon…one cup
Mocks any sense of being
Solitary confinement, a prisoner
We are not born to live inside our heads
We need the grace of company
To help us find our own… lost
In an ocean of silence sorrow born
I don't trust myself; I'm in too deep
The hurt is too unstable I'm fragile
It's such a fine line to tread, "I'm Fine"
Liar, screams my anguished heart
It hurts too much to say out loud,
For the fear of what? …Embarrassment
Or careless thoughts or, more likely…
The tsunami of grief, loss, loneliness
That tightens the chest, and forces a smile
Even in the isolation I have yet to cry
Too broken to add more brokenness
Alone… in all but, an Ocean of Loss.
Having faith does not shield us from loss
It does not stop the pain of estrangement
The loss of a companion, a life-long friend
Fractures the heart and puzzles the will
Instils a fear that hope will die on the shore
I know such fears are born of fatigue
Weariness and grief… our hunger, our thirst
For restoration of all things broken and lost
Is a yearning for the still waters of peace?
Deep in the human heart lies eternity's key
Troubled waters cannot wash it away, but rather
Reveal the true desire for its keeping, it is a gift
From God, I must trust Him to make a way
Where there is no way,
To trust the Ever lasting arms
I believe, Lord help thine my unbelief
Once again I find myself losing sight
Of the blessed Wicket Gate pathway
To the Celestial City, far from Vanity Fair
And trust His promise; ‘thus I make all things new…
if it were not so I would have told you
Beloved Community, Holy Trinity, Comfort
The lost, the lonely, the mourners fill them anew
Breathe your blessed assurance into my heart

May that which is estranged be reconcile
Soli Deo Gloria. Amen.
Adrian Wait

Loss… The Sting Of Parting…
Thursday, September 12, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: love and loss
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