Sleep eludes me.
My spirit engulfed by guilt, grief and loss,
I rise before dawn
and walk to the garden alone,
The garden is cool, and the sweet scent of jasmine hangs in the air.
I seek out a quiet place,
and lose myself in thoughts of you.
Your words, your touch, your eyes.
I don’t know if I can carry on alone.
The events of the past week play out in my mind.
From joyous celebration to sudden death.
weak willed bystander,
fair weather friend,
watched from the sidelines, powerless to help you.
I fall to my knees and pray for absolution.
I feel a presence before I hear a sound.
A stranger is here, standing close beside me.
“Who are you? What do you want?”, I ask through my tears.
A long moment’s silence and then he speaks.
He speaks my name.
I look up in confusion.
Is this someone’s cruel trick, or a ghost?
He should be dead in the grave,
but there is no denying the voice;
His sweet voice.
I rise to my feet, and look
into the eyes of my beloved.
He touches my cheek with warm fingers,
forgiveness in his smile.
Grace restored, I enter his embrace.
And then, with the lightness of burdens lifted
I turn, laughing with delight, and run to tell the others.
Lesley-Anne Evans, 2009