In the Leaving

I haven't written in so long, but today I was prompted, perhaps by divine suggestion, to write. I found this poem in its raw form, handwritten on a rumpled piece of stationery on the floor as I was cleaning...with no idea where it came from or when I wrote it. A poem about a poem that I never wrote.

In the Leaving

“In the Leaving” was the title of a poem I once wrote,

Though I never finished it

Or even began it really.

I could never truly imagine life without you.

Perhaps it would be like an expanse of dark and time;

Like being wholly separated from God.

Separated from hope.

You are my savior of sorts

And “In the Leaving” fills me

With a silent knowing,

Yet it can still mystify me

Like the line of a song that I cannot remember,

But it is on the tip of my tongue.