Waterlogged

Your face

Your reflection

On the rolling surface of the water

Undecipherable

Through the torrents of rain

And the churning gale

The notion of a darkest hour

Before some supposed dawn

Surfacing for a moment

Elusive at best

Leaving me here

This morning

Having learned only this lesson

That there is

Always

A darker day

To come

While hope springs

Eternal

So apparently

Does the darkness

That causes us

To yearn

For it

Or so it seems in this moment

When the instruments that I have

To aid my navigation

Are under water

Epilogue: This poem was written in a moment that has passed, but, that will likely return again and again. I’m learning that this journey is a descent with ever-changing slopes that is interrupted, at times, by evidence of God’s presence and the reminder that, when we finally do hit bottom, He’ll be there to take Dad up to heights never before experienced and a place where depth doesn’t exist.

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