You’ve gone and I have yet to find affinity,
A discerning of the idiom that I speak.
I‘ve striven hard to breach the wall,
Sighing wistfully as shutters fall, veils drop,
Forming tangible yet unseen,
Silken yet impenetrable barriers,
Impeding my approach.
No sister friend to speak with me again,
As once we did with look and word.
Our hearts in tandem yoked to Him,
Who tenderly draws all unto Himself.
The endless void shimmers with an ache,
Alone, bereft, I yearn to know again
The passion that we shared in our discourse
Of Him whose Name is Love
A fragrance tangled in a myriad memories,
Is unleashed and hope untrammeled brims,
As I recall my daughter’s face alight with ardor,
When she spoke of Him, whose Name is Love.
A second 'sister friend.'