A Poem for Wit

The Empty Chair

The chair sat empty no voice heard,  Only silence from the corner,  With no sound from God’s song bird.    A broken heart, oh the deepness of this loss,  The mind squeezes the silence where life, Song, and joy once told.    Now uncertainty and fear grip the room,  Only most have moved on far from here.   Familiar tears again my company,  a companion for life that will never leave.    For joy won’t come this morning or the next,  All remains dark as this long night just begins.    Too tired to ask why, to hurt to let it show,  For this grief is too weighty and timeless,  Forever changed, I know.  Changed I am, I am changed.   I see her easier in my mind,  Than hear her voice with my heart.  Never to see her wrinkles grow, or age set it,  For she is gone and gone – I feel done in.    No double-down here, no blowing smoke, Only grief and sadness and loss be spoke.  The empty chair there still in the corner.    And the pain just as present with no easing in sight,  And morning comes soon but no joy will be there,  O give me strength as I think a mental prayer,  Too honest for most, to sad for friends to stay.  No religion can mend the raw wound I say.  No theology can hold this pain too great,  It swells more each day I’m sad to say,  For she sat there in the chair not that long ago,  But not today – not this coming morning so  Until then there will be no lasting joy – to say!    Thank God my soul still longs for that day,  Changed I am as I stare at the chair,  For joy won’t come this morning or the next,  Oh how I long for the day – When tears are dried  And embraces given, so much to say and joy to behold.