Like Those Who Dreamed

What awaits us

will not evade our memories 

nor sleep while sickness mars the body

and sorrow, its blanket.

Underneath the soil,

a summons

for wartorn longings.

God remembers

our gaze before life assailed us;

the lightness of limbs 

nimble, lost with imagination.

For now

anxious.weary

heartsick.fragile,

the world tilts unsturdy

and we tumble.

Our losses, held in a story

where the Holder will greet us

Restored.

A child’s laughter echoes

beloved in the distance,

familiar below the pain;

a voice of playful wonder, mine.

Image: a girl in the river by Susan Harmon