Still Light by Ellie Brooke
Darkest dark,
no light,
I cannot see.
The end is reached,
My bones are dust.
Curling, winding.
Like a trail of smoke
or sunken mist
it lies.
Constant. This constant ebb
of death,
And the pain of it…
of ones gone too soon
and pain of others pain,
the ones you hold dear.
It aches.
It is a constant ache,
and steady throb.
But Love is stronger than death.
Sturdy line,
Still sure.
Running through,
Making pain so keen
Because you love,
and have been loved…
Love from parents,
etched in lines of worry
creased across their head.
Love from friends,
found in notes,
wrapped in words,
poured out vessels of action
and affection,
never dry,
always filled to overflowing.
And love from Love who conquered death.
Once unknown, now known,
near to me always.
Still not fully understood.
Imprint left,
The pattern wove,
Colored splash
I could not see,
unless turned round.
But now I see you;
Draw near.
For Your love is stronger than death.
Ellie Brooke is a film composer, writer, and poet. She lives in Lancaster, PA and when she is not writing music or words, she can be found at a beloved non-profit in Pequea Valley, hiking mountains far and near, or discussing the state of the world and innermost workings of the human heart with her friends and family. Find her at: elliebrooke.com.