Good Morning

Photo by Dedy Ferdian on Unsplash

You disappeared before daffodils or even the end of spring training,
Sunday night we spoke. In a few days you were gone.
I speak, but do you hear? I listen, but do you speak?
I look for signs and portents these days—
a shadow in the next room, a light in the corner.
As you said, on this side of the veil it’s all hints
and guesses and hopes.

I remember the Welsh villager who proclaimed
poetry is one power that breaks through
the veil separating life from death,
a hint there is more to our lives here than we know.

In my dream I see homecomings—our mother at the stove,
our father in the pulpit, our ancestors telling stories,
our sisters laughing, and we brothers engaged in dialog
about life after death, not even realizing we were already in heaven.

We see through the curtain now. It is clear finally.
Love is deeper than death.
and yes, lasts longer.
The night is leaving.
The morning is breaking.

John C. Morgan

John C. Morgan is a retired ethics professor, writer, and columnist.

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