Early morning thoughts, as yesterday and each day before that,
Arrive to remind me of the reality of this pain, a
Reality that calls to me, calls to me thus -
"Missy, beloved of many and a true lover of life
(O how I do love you, daughter dear!),
Gone, gone from this earth."
Inarticulate thoughts, disarticulate thoughts ache, not believing.
"She'll be back, right?" I shout to the air in vain,
Saying it again and again and again, the words falling as quiet rain,
I must listen in that moment
for one voice only,
one voice thus -
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no evil for
Thou art with me."