until You come home

until You come home

my dreams are the fronds

of ice that form on

the window which fade

as my lips touch the

glass and disappear like

tears with the warmth of

the sun.

 

until You come

home my body will

lie dormant waiting for

spring to raise me

up with the warmth of Your

hand or the flutter of Your

breath.

 

until You

come home I will

wait, but I know

that even this most patient

pledge can not bring You

home.

 

i stand before

this shining rock that bears

Your name and I feel

nothing.

 

this cannot be all that is left.

Your story is greater than this

ivory stone that mocks me

amidst its disciplined row and droplets

of red.

 

You

were a son

a brother

an uncle.

 

You were mine.

 

So, until we meet

again, I shall wait.

 

until You come home.

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13 thoughts on “until You come home

    1. Susan Moffat says:

      Thanks Brittany. I wrote
      the poem after visiting a WWII war cemetery in France. It was a very moving and very humbling experience. We are SO lucky that men and women are prepared to make such sacrifices but for me the worst part was that most of the boys in the cemetery were virtually babies, 17 & 18 year Olds. Such a sacrifice.

  1. rynnasaryonnah says:

    “until You come

    home my body will

    lie dormant waiting for

    spring to raise me

    up with the warmth of Your

    hand or the flutter of Your

    breath.”

    My favourite stanza. Beautifully written – very poignant and moving.

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