Unknown Moments Poem by grace mariner

You knew where I was then, where I am still.
I cannot know the tale for it was not mine to hear.
And so, I wait...and wonder.
The phantom stalking me at my vulnerable hour.
I have heard it said that the unknown is worse
than knowing the truth, even if horrific.
Oh but here, it is the occult, the unseen, that makes knowledge clear.
I knew what I didn't know.
I sensed what my senses never lived.
I lost what I never owned.
You are not here...
to touch me, comfort me, to speak to me in my darkness.
It is unfathomable in its cruelty, this loss of immense proportion.
That space you occupied for a fleeting moment was vast
and all consuming as you enraptured and awakened my senses.
Gone now, your being unknown.
How do I pray for you?
Where do you exist now in this physical world?
When you skulked away in the shadows you pulled your dark cloak
around you, disappearing into the mist.
I knew where you were, but not where you are.
The unknown makes clearer the loss and sharper the anguish,
as it reminds me I was but a moment in time, in a life
whose tale was never mine to hear.