I Stare at the Vacant House

                                                                             


                                                                                                    Stephen J. Jeffries
　
I stare at the vacant house,
empty of the reason to be filled with love and laughter.
Even memories seem a distant dream.
I feel the tears of grief and sadness, pressing against my eyes.
Like an ever filling fountain, dammed up, eager to escape but
Fearful of the hollow ending at the loss of grief.
Fearful of letting go the sadness .What will fill it’s space?
I step out, sightless and numb, only to be blinded by the sunlight
That seems to have escaped the darkness.
I push through the rhythms of life that continue unaware but persistent.
Drawing me into the light , leering me with children’s giggles and
Music floating on the crystal clear sunset.
My sadness takes me to the edge, ready to become the wind.
Ready to become the grief.
Shirley as I feel the closeness of the breeze,
A hand extends from the glare of sunlight pulling me out of darkness
Into, out of , over, around,
I release the burden of grief
Only to find, not an empty vessel but an infilling of memoires and smiles
Of a rich and joyful life.Becoming the grief is two times death.
Filling the grieving spaces with celebration
Pumps breath into that which is breathless.