Put On Your Wings

Put on your wings.
Lighter than you remember.
Heavier than before.

Put on your wings.
Not so snug now,
but they will hold,
they will hold,
let them hold
you close
to their healing
battle scars.

Put on your wings.
They will fly for you, just
open your eyes, open,
let your tears dry
in the wind.

Sunburns never felt so sweet.

The Mourning Year

In month zero
I mourned the loss
of a child I would never meet.

Then month three came
and I mourned the loss
of the first true home I’d seen.

Month six came
and we mourned the passing
of the man my husband called dad.

In month nine we
shared an anniversary
where we mourned everything we once had.

Month twelve came
and I mourned the death
of my beloved brother and friend.

Month thirteen has arrived
and I’m tired, so tired,
of this mourning that just won’t end.

I’ve lost all perspective
on beauty and hope
and my dreams being held at bay.

But I give thanks for the love
standing strong by my side,
month after month, easing my pain.

Despite all the hard
and the endless tears,
one thing for sure I now know.

This mourning year
gave me one great gift.
The knowing that I am never alone.