childless, creative writing, Gratitude, Hope, miscarriage, Poetry, Spirituality

Situation vacant

Something died inside me, as the year turned towards night
Someone, not really a thing, a person to be, vacated
Slipping back into the mist
Leaving me empty and silent

I walk through his room, feeling for a presence
And hope an image remains, a ghost, or a memory
Finding nothing but echoes
Repeating back my thoughts

He has gone now, and I know it must be
That his spirit was taken, by tales of wondrous adventures
Residing in fields of energy
Filling infinite space and time

I wish him love, and see an amazing journey ahead
It was too much for him to stay, his form too close, too fitted
Surrendering to the All
Eschewing his human skin

Still my body is empty, I hear its hollow sound
His life no longer lives there, just organs, bones and dust
Driving itself forward
Waiting to find its role

Something died inside me, as the year turned away its face
Just a shell though, left to wither and decay
And a Great Spirit that
Soared into the Light

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