Poem: Midnight Feast

Mood Music: Drinking Again  By: Aretha Franklin

Enjoy this heart-wrenching  poem about the midnight agony of grieving for a loved one. 

 Set the Table

Pour the wine

Light the Candle

And pounder.

As I sup the bread of sorrow,

Will it aid me to worry of the things I could not

foresee?

No.

But it helps to pull back the heavy drapes and stare out into the velvet sky

imagining yesterday’s tomorrow.

Who would phantom the direction that a broken compass would lead me?

Who would imagine that one forlorn night,

The sun would set to rise no more?

Impossible as it is to move a mountain,

Here I stand with my little twine in the valley,

Seeking to recreate a destiny already etched in stone.

Though everything in my life has changed,

My heart reminds unrelenting,

 unmarred by the inevitable.

The ebony hues and the jewels that light the sky

Remind me of a distant smile.

The moon so artfully hung reignites the imagery of

Hope nearly

forgotten.

Easy would it be to find my bed,

Hard would it be to find rest there.

Even more unimaginable?

Peace.

Who could dream when their Heart no longer does?

What peace is there for the living?

I am far too content in my station,

Standing guard to the unguarded.

An unnecessary duty I find imagined favor in.

I can’t envision my cup ever emptying,

For it is far too full.

I can’t see my mind growing wearier,

For no exhaustion could exceeds this.

A choice this is,

Unwise it maybe,

But I am certain that I am not a solitary diner at such a large feast.

So I will continue overindulgence,

With my empty plate

Never satiated.