Light runs out before love is finished
— some days, I think, even before love begins —
and the horizon blazes with the angry grief
of time we wish we’d had, moments we missed,
stories we didn’t begin to write together
or could’ve written differently
if the sun had just stood still.
I want the moon to play the sun’s role:
to embolden what could be, to thaw our hesitations,
to shrink the shadows of fear and disappointment.
But no, the sun tears itself out of the sky,
the light leaves, and love remains an ellipsis
that we carry to bed,
tucking it under the pillow with the wish
that tomorrow won’t bring the same heartbreaking omissions.
Just wanted to let you know that I love your writing. I saw it the first time in one of the UCC devotional emails quite a few months ago and have been following you ever since. There was one in particular, Pit of Despair, that I shared on my Facebook page in its entirety and with proper credit. I shared it because it spoke so deeply of what I know some of my friends deal with. I knew it would touch their hearts and help them to remember that they are not alone in their struggle. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and insight with others! God’s peace be with you. ~ Tobi
How kind of you, Tobi. Thank you!
Yikes, Rachel… that expression ,” light runs out before love is finished…” I will “carry that” as an expression That I will return to often.
You have expressed the very real “cry” or “wish” when someone we love dies. I also appreciate the “warmth” of the sun , new leaves and a love that goes with us , tucked into our pillows at night, at least for that night.
A Poignantly beautiful expression, thank you.
Thank you, Ann. Yes, I agree — the end of the day and the end of a life both cause us grief.