Stories of Other Loss
Lost Prescence
by J.P., Aurora, U.S.A.
Since you have gone, what tangled mountain of hurt, blame, and ugliness. How could so many who claim to have loved you, throw such hurtful deadly swords. I ache for those who are scalding us all. How could we get so careless with a part of heaven here, in each living breathing person each holding it's own special prescence of our maker?
I can't make it better, and it won't go back to the way it was. Don't they see, don't they know, don't they care HOW SPECIAL and fragile life is? I shout to Universe how could this be? How could you have turned your back on us? Left us to this pit? I, weary of our human hurtful and at times demented things we do one to another. It says you, oh maker, giver of life and our very breath, comfort the comfortless, that you hold every tear, and hear the cry of our heart? Why do I not feel the peace that passes all understanding? How do I get through this desert of such desolation? You say you never forsake us! You whose own such suffered such torture, such taunting. Is this how he felt when HE cried to the one who was closer than anything He'd known, felt so forsaken, so ALONE, bearing the weight of all humankinds pestulance? Take me beyond the cross! Carry me to the resurrection, the victory of Life as piles of ashes want to bury; strength to hold on, with the weary lies of life; bring me to fount of life that will revive this anemic being. Cause hope to rise one breath, one step at time. Cause my eyes to see, beyond the outer shell of man, to the absolute uniqueness that touches a portion of heaven in each of us. BE OUR EMMANUEL, God with us!
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