There’s an utter sadness weighing, flying over the wings of joy;
maybe it’s my last piece of grief from everything that came to pass,
everything that is, and everything that was.
What could have been had I written anyway that day?
I would’ve looked foolish, yes… but maybe you’d be here.
Maybe you wouldn’t and everything would be the same… this only God knows. It was He who asked me not to call you towards my heart after, anyway.
I have this beautiful gold earrings and ring set, its stones are emerald green. Gold and green. She who designed it is with Abba now, alive and happy, I’m sure… did you know? To my home, she got to be a messenger of hope, one of those with beautiful feet carrying great news of the future and it’s seasons. I couldn’t testify to that there with her people, but I do here, because I know certainly where she went, and where she is today,
She’s with Him.
But you?
Last time I saw you… was in dreams. I still do, sometimes; in dreams, I’ve gotten to see you. Always wondering if you’re alright.
Oh, how I’d have you live.
Which is what I told you, in dreams.
In dreams, I asked you to wake up, wake up, wake up.
I risked everything by trying to hug you, I touched your shoulders, caressed your arms so very softly as if trying to remove dust from your clothes, and then I wondered if maybe I was in fact trying to comfort you, for I touched also your face and it was wet.
In dreams, I didn’t want to leave.
I didn’t want it for a long time, even if during a season I couldn’t stand to see you, not even there, partly because I had to watch you walk away every time… It was me, then, not wanting to leave. “Tell me he’ll be alright!” I asked, and knew as lavender is purple that even if I had let you go in this world, that was not a story for my heart to hold, it didn’t let you go. It still ached to see you, to meet you by chance there on our town’s new supermarket, or at the mall… maybe your head showing at the gas station, I always imagine your old car, “Then I´ll leave.”
I have to let you go, I just need to know you’ll be alright, and maybe this is how I do, leaving this here in hopes of it someday reaching your hands so I can remind you of our home in heaven all over again… yes, this is how I finish what I began that day.
You have to be. Please.
Love… you never got to be mine, but maybe Abba’s… wouldn’t you like?
Wake up, wake up, wake up.
Wake, get up… He awaits.
Maybe that’s all we have to do:
wake up and flee the dark for He awaits for us clothed in Light.
Maybe it is something I need to tell myself too, wake up. Wake up, because when I do nothing is dark anymore, did you know? And nothing hurts. I guess that if i tell it to myself…
I let you go.
I let you go now.
I let you go and follow Abba.
I would have you live, but now I let you go.
For the millionth time, today I do… here, and in dreams, you’re free. But only promise me one thing:
When He calls, you’ll follow Him.
Right here the poem I never got to speak, trying to fool even myself… because if I did, then I also denied you were important to me. Now I do, and now, having been true, I can begin to mend of this too. I guess it’s the same as when they remove a sliver.
The True One is calling you too, I’m sure, and wants to love you back to life. I know, I know, He sounds foreign to you, I know you think you have nothing to do with each other, you and Him, and that you wouldn’t have wanted te real me… but today, today I’m brave enough to write anyway:
He can love you back to life just as He did with me, and would do it for eternity, until you meet Him face to face… and there you’d have a home where you can forever live. In Him.
And so I welcome this, letting go of the remnants of grief, whatever came to pass, what once was and what never got to be; so the splinter is removed, now I can move, even if there’s a mending wound for some days. I had two on a finger recently, and after the cleansing I can barely see the remnants of the wound.
I am quite ready to fly on my Sun of Righteousness’s wings .
He´s saved me!
At last, I am free!
-SFTS
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