Low morning sun
Blanches the lilacs
White like sweet
Little lavender jujubes
Shadows beneath the
Suns reach glisten
In morning dew
Like wet ink
Ivory sunslit slivers
Dance like ghosts
Long and sinewy
They grow shrink
As Saul rises
The last of
Last nights rain
Drips from gutters
Like tea from
Hot wet spoons
As yawning birds
Call each other
This my love
Is morning here
It is not
That I miss
You it’s just
That the tiny
Filaments of your
Life have been
Spun into the
Fabric of mine
In time I
Will simply tuck
You away safely
In the corner
Of my closet
But until then
I will wear
You for you
Keep me warm
Last when I
Spoke to God
He said two
Things to me
Which I didn’t
Understand yet trusted
Let him go
Let him be
Sometimes you never
Realize their meanings
Until after you’ve
Passed through the
Storms eye and
Are delivered new
God didn’t suggest
Saying good bye
He meant as
You have him
Nor did He
Mean silence but
As he is
Trust in Him
And just the
Things He says
He knows peace
Best and precisely
What it takes
To get there
Like a smudgy
Window thrown open
To let in
The spring breeze
So go I
This morn before
I was coated
By years of
Uncertainty and desperation
Grasping onto the
Last few limbs
Of a life
I thought I’d
Had falling into
The darkened abyss
I don’t know
Where to land
But land I
Shall in a
New world absent
The burdens of
The last and
Free to love
Whomever I choose
Like a tree
That has shed
Its leaves I
Stand naked barren
Ready for winters
Onslaught of snow
And biting cold
Yet I know
That what comes
After is new
Spring full of
Budding blooming life
And those long
Warm summer days
Of shimmying shade
I’m not worried
I’m happy for
I am alive
Always beautifully alive
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 