To Brian, A Confession

by Rich on March 29, 2018

The quiet noises of mundane life

For that which by other days would be unheard,

Are now obscene obtrussions upon my grief

So well deserved.


The playful laugh of child and youth

Of barking dogs, of radios and motorcycles

Of those that any other day be the norm

Are this day the screech of nails on a chalkboard.


There is a small voice that whispers

And says I have no right to mourn

To cry and go to the church

And light candles while I weep.


And perhaps there is some truth to that

Though that voice has no soul

And does not know the smile and boisterous life

That I have seen in flesh and bone.


But if there is truth in that

It is of my own fault.

I stood next to a diamond

And did not see it’s worth.


And maybe most of what fills my heart

Is anger at myself.

The sense of loss compounded

With knowledge of treasures left.


But mostly there is only a hole

That I know my God fills to complete

With love and grace and peace and forgiveness

But that now seems to me an abyss.


I walked along a path

Filled with sights and sounds and wonders

And so enraptured with my own senses

Failed to see that all was for nothing.


The path created to be shared

And while seeing and believing

And looking ahead and running from

Did not love as I was loved, the one walking with me

{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }

Mom March 29, 2018 at 7:36 pm

The loss of someone we care about awakens us to wasted moments, and makes us more intentional and appreciative of even the briefest times together. In an unexpected instant, the ones we love and are walking beside can be taken from us. Oh God, let me so live that I have no careless neglect and gross regrets.


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