Sounds of music are forming pictures within my mind to write
from.
Thinking of my friend, wondering how he's faring and if he's
holding his own in his new world of lonely emptiness without
his wife.
So tenderly seeing him, drowning in his tears of love as he
tries to live without the true love of his life.
All of the time here on earth now having been changed forever,
nothing ever going back to the way it was.
Learning to capture his new being in an empty sphere of
loneliness, he is barely holding his own.
Questioning his very existence in this world and time, not
finding any answers for the reasons of his turmoil through
grief and sorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That he has a friend in You, who so cares about his grieving heart...perhaps will provide a much welcomed compass as to how he can move forward. Saddened to think his world is now gray, perhaps time will paint new hues. As only your hand can....again, a poem penned with perfection. PEACE