Jesse
The day is quiet.
The birds aren’t singing. The wind ceases to hum, the clouds seem stagnant.
Its funny when someone is taken from you, the entire world seems to slow, in turn making everything seem so eerily silent. The world outside my window shines a dull gray. Everything stands still.
I can hear the angels sing a triumphant song, for their fathers son has returned home. I see you walking into our fathers throne room head held high and smile blinding.
However, the world below weeps, we continue to ask why, we continue to miss the obvious out of our hearts own grief.
A father wanted his son. A father is now holding him against the pain, the pain no longer exists.
There’ll be a service for you. The thick tangible gray will still hang in the air. And although we can’t understand the reason for the recent events, although we’ll be shedding tear after tear for the one we lost, you’ll be smiling, dancing, singing with the father each of us are destined to be with.
-Micaiah Price
Copyright © Micaiah Price | Year Posted 2011
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