Within you; one moment of silence.
A trust, the one place you can turn to for guidance;
it might sound like someone else, but it’s just your highest, reaching to you.
I’ve been talking to my Mama almost every day. I find myself walking, and on my way
I reach for my phone to fill her in, to remind her that neither of us are alone,
but of course, her body is gone. It’s been five weeks now.
And each time I forget, and reach to call to her, now I just put in my headphones and
say it, Hi Mama. I miss you, I really don’t know how else to reach you.
So while I’m walking, like I used to, I’m listening for your questions
(they used to be burdensome, now I listen for them like my favourite songs),
and your advice (and the weather, now I have to actually look it up),
and your most random thoughts (which I can still hear, and now, they too are music);
call me crazy, but I might be getting used to this.
Within me. One moment of silence.
A trust, the one place I can turn to for guidance.
It really does sound like her. But I know it’s just my highest.
Lead Image by Pete Longworth
By Elena Brower