Gripping tightly to invisible ropes leaves burns on sweating palms when all is finally let go

And by all I foolishly pretend to know the pain of such slippery surrender

But I have not lost a husband

I have not lost a home

I have not lost a faith

I have lost neither hope nor love

 

Yes there are days and weeks and months which feel as though I may

Grown children scatter making ways into unknown worlds

And because the bonds of love are strong they come

To remember grandfathers

To visit grandmothers

To share the burdens of graying parents and to help rearrange the furniture one more time

To eat the favorite foods, to walk the family farm,  and to sleep in familiar beds

 

But in time all will be released

Mothers and fathers

Husbands and wives

Children and children’s children

Some sooner and some later

Some with understanding and others through reasons never to be known

Our hands will let go, our grips will fail

 

And these three will remain:

Faith, Hope, and Love

And the greatest will always be Love