Am I here?
Am I seen?
Will I be gone for all eternity?
Am I heard?
Am I felt?
Will I be recognized in the afterlife?
Am I touched?
Have I touched?
Can you see me and know my love and joy?
Can you share with me or am I gone till I’m needed again?
Into the depths, I go once again.
Wondering if I’ll meet a different Presence.
Deeper back, into the pain and sorrow,
isolation, rejection, accepting what may.
Is there someone else?
Is there a mighty Presence awaiting
to help me through?
Although sins are forgiven,
the effects of the harm from others
and myself have altered perception
that should never have been.
Yet slowly, in an innocent consumption,
I feel love and acceptance,
but not from any human to who cares not,
sees not, feels not, hears not, touches not.
Someone deeper. Consuming.
Like a fire, burning up the pain which is a part of me.
Although I’m not seen or heard,
I’m learning to see beyond the self appointed grave.
Religion says, “I’ll help yet at a distance so I’m not tainted or by your pain.”
Yet they see not their own pain, the depths of their God’s forgiveness.
Society says, “I’ll help! Yet stay away, I’m happy as my own. I refuse to see what I need or confront my own.”
Blinded by their own self-righteousness like the religious they blame they judge not.
These voices, quieter they become.
Slowly drowned out by the depths of the pain,
where I meet the Presence who loves.
Feeling alone doesn’t mean you don’t appreciate what you have, or who is in your life. It doesn’t mean you don’t love God first or believe you have friends. It’s that feeling of abandonment, of emotional starvation that’s difficult to fulfill that connection we were made with and to have. It can be difficult to understand the power and intensity of it when you’ve never been there, or had it momentarily. It’s different when it follows you around day in and day out. Be quick to listen and slow to speak. Just be there physically. Maybe you saved a life.