Missing Them

December 25, 2024

I know it is Christmas morning, and maybe more so because it is, but I find myself missing those we have lost and am lost in thinking of those who are missed.

I often wish to be at peace even though that kind of acceptance does not forestay tragedy. And though I hope to be free of worry and regret, I fear that true inner peace means embracing death. 

Missing Them
December 25, 2024

I fear that true inner peace means embracing death. 

Tonight I hope to dream of unadulterated happiness, unconditional love, and hyperbolic emotions found only in childhood and in dreams.

I hope to leave behind stress and worry, and to dream of emotion so perfect that its release cleanses my soul – I hope for the catharsis of mainlining pure joy.

And in that carefree moment not bound or complicated by time, or death, or any actuality, I hope to be at peace in a way reality cannot afford. 

Unadulterated joy, carefree peace, and unconditional​ love, I hope to dream that I am three again, healed and made whole, aching with relief, and loved and safe in their embrace.