for the father of my children, R. Lamont Wynn (RIP)
Tucked away in the satiny pockets of my carry-on
are little pieces of who he was
Fine and delicate memories line the
folds so completely, his essence pressed
so smoothly, that it would be impossible
to separate the fabric without tearing
I never check this bag...
it 'travels with'
on-board for the duration of my journey
The love I hold inside this carry-on
does not intrude upon my here and now
Rather, it fuels and feeds, and nourishes
me -
Reminding me of the joy and beauty
of a life well lived
And
I thank God for the man
who came with lovely eyes, a firm grip
and an open heart, who is now gone
The man of God whose lessons are still teaching...
I frequently reach inside the deep, pillow-like crevices
of my bag to gather wisdom, to inspire hope
and I gain strength to go on
© 2013
Bridget Edwards
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