It is an illusional death

that you left behind.

There is no grave or

swirl marbled headstone

to visit and weep at.

No place to lay flowers

or wax smooth candles.

Still you haunt like an

unsettled ghost not knowing

it has been gone.

Holding conversations by

modern-day seances

performed by wires and

clicking keyboards.

A disembodied voice

that fills the ears but

is no longer seen.

Mischeivious smiles of

amusement and weighted

shoulders from the day are

left to fill in with jigsaw memory.

You wanted to die when

you were here.

Unable to grab hold of

the life you wanted,

seeing only through the

veil of loss.

Where everything you had

was blurred and far away.

Not a part of you any longer.

So you willfully fly into that

light waiting to claim you.

Will your new heaven be

all you hoped?

Will the veil be lifted

presenting music of

harps and trumpets,

perhaps a feast

on a long table, lined

edge to edge of favorites,

resting on linen and silk.

Perhaps there is an angel.

One who comforts, removes

the troubles that held you

tight to the ground.

Freeing you from the ones

left behind, until

we are nothing more

than wisps of memories

disappearing into the clouds.

Our unsettled ghost no more.