Cloudwalker

Some time ago I started writing a series of poems about my life. The First one was called The Empty Stage. With each major event I have added a new part. As you may know a year ago Oct. 2 my wife died. I have written a poem for the Empty Stage cycle in honor of her death. I post it here in memory.

The Empty Stage: Part 7

The Stage is full of players
But empty it seems to me.
Tears flow that blind my eyes
And see not their forms.

For a player most important goes,
She has shared this stage with me.
A vital part of this production
And long stood by my side.

But the Great Director calls,
And she must leave the scene,
And go where He directs,
And wait me there beyond.

And so here I stand,
Though I too long to leave the stage.
The grief, it weighs me down
And my knees would hit the floor..

And though with blinded eyes
I cannot see them there,
I know the players come
And lend to me their aid.

For though I cannot see them
I feel them all around,
Holding me erect
And helping me go on.

And so I continue on,
For the Great Director wills.
And His strength as well I feel
Helping me go on.

But some sweet day I too shall go
And join her there beyond.
And then we two shall be as one
And never part again..

_____ _____
____David E. Cloud____
(9/24/10}