Wednesday, July 26, 2006


There are moments when I can scarcely breath. My heart pounds out an attack, then retreats, leaving me cold and ruined. I force breath deep into my lungs, probing for proof of life, then the air leaves me in utter anguish.

Oh the tears - how they strive to drown me in my sorrow. My grief wraps around my neck and strangles my hope. For that is what I mourn for, my hope. It was snatched from my bosom in one sure and callus blow. I wander aimlessly through the forests of desperation, calling to the one for guidance.

No answers come to me now. I stumble and fall. Then I drag myself to my feet, only to stumble and fall again. My skin bleeds, my muscles cramp, but they are no match for the desperate ache I suffer.

All that is left is the echo of emptiness, an absolute loneliness that feels so familiar. I bid my heart to resume beating. I beg for solace from the hurt. I pray for a reprieve from the darkness.

Time, they say, is the cure. Time and again I have waited. Time and again, I have trusted a hope for naught. Time and again, time betrays me.

Where is my gratitude? Where is the joy I once knew? Where is my hope? I long for them so.

1 comment:

  1. Both hope and gratitude are there still, Cheri. They're just napping a bit while you mourn the loss in your life and adjust to the change. All significant growth involves some pain.

    Hang in there. As they say in the Bible, "This too shall pass".