Missing

Crocuses are blooming.  

Such a short life they have.

Much like us.

There is a small hole in my heart where someone used to be.

A special someone,  who was very close to me.

They went left, I went right.

No common ground was in our sight.

But then I saw

Like the wing of a dove 

Something floating down

It looked like love

And then I knew 

No matter what might happen 

I would always have 

That connection 

I can't deny my principles,  morals, or senses.

Everything inside me is screaming, warning bells, that someone I love dearly is heading down a long, lonely,  rough road.  

And I can't go down that road with them. 

And that's okay. 

Because I might not be there, but my love will be, God's love will be. 

They might not call his name but I can stand in the gap and call on him for them, every day.