Parting is all we know of heaven
And all we need of hell
—Emily Dickinson, My Life Closed Twice Before Its Close
I always thought we’d have you
I always knew you cared
I always felt your presence
Your love was everywhere
Suddenly I feel it
Everything is wrong
Nothing’s where it should be
And half the sky is gone
The flowers on the hillside
The birds passing by
Sing to me of your love
In a cosmic lullaby
By Richard W. Bray
Tags: death, Emily Dickinson, love, My Life Closed Twice Before Its Close, Poetry
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