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Silence Isn’t Golden Until The Last Word Is Spoken
Love transcends time and space
As sure as the sun rises each morning, I know with certainty she will come. She’ll glide over mountain tops — skim the ocean blue. Test her wings with doves in flight to land within my view.
Anyone close to my heart who passes over will find a portal back to me in my dreams. I never know the day or time of their return. Family and friends drawn to the light can see the door stays ajar — enough for them to squeeze through.
They come to share eternal bliss found in freedom from mortal pain. To assure me they’re in that better place people talk about but have never been. Sometimes they talk to me — sometimes not. Often their shadowy expression says more than words can say. So I wait.
I am not a religious person, although raised Catholic — consider myself deeply spiritual. I attended Catholic school until sixth grade. Mom snatched me out the same day a priest molested a fourth grader inside the confessional. Of all places.
The heavenly sanctuary intended for a second chance at salvation became the hell of filth and disgrace. Singed into the fragile minds of innocent school children.
