Forgive me for my need to write something for her. It also helps with the grieving.
Goodbye, the final whisper sighs,
as a broken heart makes leave.
Within space dwells words unspoken
like ashes of poetry.
Heavy the spirit, burdened the soul
on broken wings it falters.
Longing to leave life's trials behind,
among the living, man-made altars.
She longs to go home, let her go home
to that glorious space before time.
Where heartache never dares to touch
a delicate heart sublime.
To soar to a place she knows not of,
and yet, closing in more each day.
Calling, ever so sweetly, it begs,
"Come away. Come away."
"You are done my blessed spirit,
you've more than paid your dues.
Too long you've been absent from me,
and I desire to be next to you."