The World of Myth Magazine

When the earth renders a silent sob and shudders
As the winds exhale, becoming the softest breeze,
I stand outside to breathe in the solemnity of the night air.
In these quiet moments, I let down my guard, set aside my armor,
And sit vulnerable, barely breathing, waiting to hear you call my name.
Tears well up, unbidden, as they always do, and spill over.
I am bereft, standing alone, arms outstretched,
The last remnant of our one-time family,
You are with them, in the undiscovered country, the place unknown,
I brush my tears away as they fall faster.
The night air catches them, small, sparkling moments of grief,
And comforts me with a soft sigh and tender embrace.

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