The Table
Are you truly gone?
We needed so much more
To rightfully explore
The journey we were on.
Are we truly over?
Should I give up all hope
To climb the steepest slope,
And hear again your laughter?
It seems to me we’ve grown
Closer in mind and spirit,
With faith a daily habit—
An anchor and a throne.
If ever we were made
To cross, alone and ready,
I’d build the table, steady
As promised, in the shade.
If we must stay apart,
I’ll keep the one I craved,
With fondest words engraved
With ink inside my heart.