this is not life
this is just existence, just about
hours, days blur by
blurred by grey
into which we’d leap?
no, step back from the void
and turn around
someone is calling your name
from a distant light
we love you.”
“why?” you ask,
demanding an answer
they take your hand
and you see their heart and mind
and those of all your presence has touched
and all of it is love. and all of it is good
they see the same you, but in a different light
a golden one you don’t recognise
but through which you look…
how can one person feel this way about you,
let alone this army sent to save you,
drag you back from the brink?
“how?” you ask, dumbfounded.
and they take your hand again
and you see times you never knew counted
when a smile, or a word, or
just your presence
helped not one soul
and brought warmth into the hearts
you have one last question.
“how did you know?” you ask, trembling
a third time they take your hand
and now place it over their heart,
“your absence,” they say,
“was keenly felt”
“What now?” you ask.
“Come back to all of us,” they say,
“and be our light and warmth again.”
You can do nothing but smile, wipe your tears, and agree.