Beyond the grave

Walking past a graveyard to my future home.
I often don’t look that direction
Instead looking only to the street
and the bodegas.
But tonight I do.
I take in the hundreds of graves
laying beside me.
The souls that once lived,
once loved.
I take them in
because I don’t want to forget them.
I don’t want to turn my cheek
or look the other way.

Sometimes it’s hard to believe
that you are not here.
That I can’t see you and the wrinkles on your hands.
That I can’t hear your voice, your laugh.

It’s hard to believe
four years have passed
without dialing your name
without hugging your neck
without eating your food
without hearing you fuss
without feeling your comfort.

It is hard to believe.

And yet,
you have been here.
Even when I don’t
feel you,
see you,
hear you.

You are here.

A part of me.
In my blood
my bones
my tissue
my muscles
my organs.
In the atoms that make up every part of me.

You are in those pieces.
Even now.
You will always,
for eternity
make up a piece of me.

I am grateful to walk this life
with you
and what lies beyond life
with you.

Death is truth.
It is coming for me
just as it came for you.
Instead of looking the other way
I will look
boldly
with open arms
and a soft heart
into its face.
for it is
there You live.
It is there
I may live with you.