Her Ghost Lit Up the Room
He stepped aside to clear the way,
casket carried up the stairs,
quietly, his love died that day,
gone are the worries, gone are the fears,
sick for so long,
in taking her
God did nothing wrong,
he stood, in the doorway,
ceremoniously, with nothing to say,
he thought it was going to be horrifying, terrifying,
ghastly, to be left alone,
his house wasn’t a house if she wasn’t at home,
but he sensed her awareness all around,
then he heard a gentle sound,
whispering softly in his ear,
telling him not to cry,
not to shed a single tear,
even in death she’d always be near,
he then looked at the children,
by the coffin on their knees,
begging her to come back,
God, please oh please,
friends behind him sobbing timidly,
he prayed softly, for them all,
because when God reaches, you take the call,
and what seemed to be a day of gloom,
wasn’t really,
because her ghost lit up the room.
Copyright © Frank F. Atanacio | Year Posted 2009
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