Elegy to Lost Love
She still comes to me.
The past opens the door, and I’m flooded.
I’m drenched with memories of years gone by,
Strung tight with melancholy from those moments.
We were just beginning to grow close,
On the verge of forming a strong bond between us.
She pulled me out of the mire of darkness,
And we were walking toward Zion’s gate.
Oh, how the elements separated us—
At twilight of feeble boughs and falling leaves,
She whispered comforting words and smiled,
As she gently eased into the beyond.
She still comes to me
In a symphony of twilight rays,
In the solitude of my room,
In the depths of my reflection.
She still comes to me,
When I’m gazing at the night sky,
Searching for answers in the celestial twinkles and orbs,
Walking through the miles of a new world.
It’s a mixture of hurt and healing.
I remember her generous words,
I recall her nuggets of hope,
Often, tears stream from my eyes.
January 14, 2025.
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