Sometimes you pray.
When you think no one can hear your cries.
Sometimes you pray.
When the tears become rivers in your eyes.
Sometimes you pray.
When that parent that you lost becomes visual.
When you almost forget their eyes or smile, That pain, of almost living without them becomes literal.
A being. Who talked, walked, Loved, thought, Laughed, and cried.
Left the earth as beautiful as they came in.
It is almost mythical.
Like the poets who wrote of gods, beast and magic for you.
I only hope he is sitting with God reading this with you all too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem