Hearing Loss

     For weeks there has been poem inside me trying to get out. I have resisted exploring it because I had a feeling it was a sad poem. Even now I hesitate to post it because what I value most from my poetry is accuracy and I have not experienced a loss such as this. I have not lost a child or a spouse. I can only draw on what I have learned, my limited experience and my ability to empathize.

 

                     Hearing Loss

In the beginning, grief is a daily dirge.

You hear it echo in the empty rooms

in the unheard conversations you long to share

in the absent voice your heart still listens for.

It whispers from the vacant sleeping place beside you,

a sound as steady as the ticking of a clock.

 

Later, there comes a quietness,

a stillness that does not seem so empty.

Your voice no longer echoes in the room,

good memories have begun to fill it.

And you realize that you are still one flesh

in all the ways that matter. 

 

At last, you hear the hymns again

and praise with joy no longer feigned.

You realize your life is more full than empty.

And you long for heaven for its own sake,

not simply as an end to your sorrow,

because part of your heart already lives there.