How will the world be without you?
Will the grass still be green?
The sky still blue?
Or will all movement and color
turn to a still silent gray?
The wind cease to blow,
the sun stop its rays?
Will the birds and the crickets
continue to sing?
Happily chirping and
flapping their wings?
Will the clouds still float
aimlessly through the sky?
Or will they stay motionless
until they evaporate and die.
The sky and grass will not change.
The color and movement will stay the same.
Birds and Crickets will continue to sing,
Happily chirping and flapping their wings.
Clouds will aimlessly float in the sky,
At least in other people’s eyes.
But I doubt things will ever be the same for me.
After you’re gone so will the trees.
Their leaves will appear lifeless,
though movement they still possess.
My eyes will deceive me and everything will look different.
From flowers to grass.
To the sky to the wind.
Nothing will look the same
without my best friend.
Maybe I’ll look in the mirror,
and not see myself.
Just some shell of what I used to be,
Sitting on a shelf.
But still this is only a theory.
I’m not sure how it’ll be.
When you leave this world behind you,
and you’re no longer here with me.
The above piece is one I wrote the week before my Father passed away. It has been six years to the day since he left us. I still miss him with all my heart but eventually the pain does…well I was going to say it eases but it really doesn’t. It just changes into a new type of pain that doesn’t feel as debilitating. I sometimes still find myself reaching for the phone thinking of calling him. I still pause and breathe deeply when I spell fresh cut lumber or the cologne he used to wear. Time really does fly and I can’t believe its been six years.