Departure
César Molina Consuegra

When I saw her recovering

from the vertigo in her ear and the diabetes loosening its grip,

I was filled with optimism.

Yet,

if you live within the poem,

death is not real.

A profound prayer

to the infinite Creator:

I asked for swift healing and life.

Now that she is gone,

The sense of orphanhood is devastating.

Like the stoic solitude of pine trees

amidst the cold winter.

It is cold.

We ask, but God gives

He never forsakes us.

In this Odyssey that is our brief life,

the shepherd’s staff and faith

are breaths of life.

I long for that unshakeable

armor—

where the snow slides off and spring is awaited

with faith and absolute hope.

To be born again, we must die!