M i s s i n g

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-Early in every morn', when sun lights the rooms of this house, you are here--
here, inside pictures on the wall--here in the silence of memories.
Your movements are felt inside us, and we reach out to find you against gray walls,
undivided, sensing your smile all around us, when thinking your name.
There are those who walk with you, as angels in the dark...
angels will find you, by your whisper;
and always with you, they will watch over you.

And sometimes in the early light of morn', they gather to the shore of every ocean,
looking out to the tall white waves, that come in their calling,
and together, chant prayers for the missing,
that you may find a sense of comfort there.

You are lost, but not far from the single quiet whisper of hope,
nor from the eyes of angels, and hearts of those, who still come to the silent waves,
in wait of light's flicker... watching from the shore;
you, are not alone.

Shannon's Garden Poems  ©2002 David T Culver