Grace, Holding you.

Meant so much,
so powerful,
so inspired,
and fallen.
Grace, so lovely
words so deep and meaningful,
yet unpondered
and unfulfilled.

Imagined Grace,
sitting alone,
on the floor,
holding the phone,
rocking to and fro,
holding your picture,
weeping,
holding you.

Imagined Grace,
fallen and departing,
pleased for the rest,
breaking a momentary silence,
when she thought,
when she dreamed,
when she lived,
she talked and now,
holding your picture,
again weeping,
holding you.

Imagined Grace,
at your bedside,
holding your hands,
your eyes becoming unfocused,
cursing God,
as you slipped away.
Brushed your cheek,
whispered your name,
weeping,
holding you.