26.  The Unholy Thought of Losing You

Ever inside of me is the unholy

Thought of losing you.

It travels, a lone bird,

Until it meets the others,

And as I’m returning clothes

That don’t fit,

Or food I didn’t order,

The flight of them thrash

Hard against my inner self,

Until my ribs are sore

And so are my memories.

There you are, such a little

Girl with your big force

Of a laugh and determination

To oppose everything

Meant for your good.

“Strong-willed,” a term

Some armchair psychologist

Made up while not having

To pry their child off the ceiling.

But I enjoyed it–no–I only

Enjoy it now because you’ve

Grown full force, and full flower,

Petals shining and shimmering

So, my eyes can barely even see

All the bad that’s hurt my heart.

And it’s only the knowing that God

Himself, His angel army,

A force that has no wings

But braves everything

For their commander

Can I get my head around

This life, the suffering in losing,

You, but knowing You’ll never

Be lost when you’re found

By Him.