Poem August 21, 1989 Issue

Beyond these walls

Jean M. Langerman

Always you were here,
and now you're not.
The empty chair, the very walls,
cry absence.
How I miss your touch.
Then I lift my thought in prayer
and see what I have always known:
A hand to meet my hand
is not what binds.
It is something
far beyond the human touch
holding us close.
We travel both
in God-directed paths
through universe of Mind,
that circle of infinity
where no one's left behind.
And what of now?
God's love—and yours—stays with me
and accompanies me home,
for both of us already
live beyond these walls.