Hope arising out of bitter, evil darkness

No, when Sophie announced it.
No, after my cancer joke.
I turned to prayer, like many, like everyone.

‘Has Tom not bothered to come?’ I jokingly asked, a few weeks later.
Affi’s mumblings silenced me, but not totally.
’Hilary’s gone to be with Jesus’ Steve said.

NO.

No! God, how?
No-one deserves that, especially not him.
Forgotten are the hundreds, thousands of
prayers, and I see him there, on Sunday evening, hours after her death.
His usual self. Amazing. I speak of
Family Guy, but he commends my piano playing.
I see him there, on Monday evening.
His usual self. Had been crying, nearly did again. Broke my heart.
Wednesday, asked me how I was doing.
Thursday, overjoyed by my presence and my gift, but had been crying.

But I think, how? How, in the midst of everything?
But my questions are forgotten, and I want to cry
but can’t really. Maybe it’s his strength stopping me.

Hope arising out of bitter, evil darkness

watty

Joined May 2008

  • Artist
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Artist's Description

Something I wrote after one of my close Christian friends’ Mum died of cancer. His name is Tom, and he’s 17.
His unbelievable strength and resolve has blown us all away.

Artwork Comments

  • Splitcoms
  • barnsy
  • watty
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