Although I expressed my love for Mom, an echoed refrain in my life, this Miss my Mom poem serves as a way to cope with her death, and the resulting struggles and strife. I hope it strikes a responsive chord within you, if you’re now working your way through your own grief and bereavement.
Of course, Mom, this miss my mom poem is dedicated to you, until we meet again, when it no longer has relevance.
You sound good,” a neighbor said
Suggesting I’m handling grief quite well.
Quite an odd observation to me …
as my wretched soul is burning in hell.
I’m torn and tattered, empty and numb,
accompanied by familiar anger and fear.
My mom’s unexpected passing is an endless tragedy
… that I cannot ever bear.
This profound sense of hurt can’t be assuaged,
no words of wisdom can dull grief’s pain.
I’ll never be able to find that rainbow
over an unstoppable rain
“The sun will come out tomorrow,”
some convincingly say,
but inner turbulence and incessant pressure
portend a forecast that’s gray.
Unconditional love is hard to live without,
especially when death snatches it from your hand.
I’m now feeling unloved and abandoned,
slowing sinking in quicksand.
I’m fighting from being pulled under,
looking vainly for an escape.
But my brain, too, is working against me,
negative thoughts– an unending mental tape.
Why did this have to happen to her … to me???
I scream in useless protest.
Trying to make any sense of this loss
is a hopeless, pointless quest.
Looking for blame and fault,
I’m still clueless and longing for the past.
Death as a stage of life …
can come uninvited and fast.
Intelligent, insightful, and wise,
compassionate, sensitive, and kind,
during her altruistic, selfless life,
Mom gave me comforting peace of mind.
My mom embodied perfection
in my loving and admiring eyes.
Beautiful features and delicate traits,
more captivating than any sunrise.
But her days are now gone and set,
and darkness and emptiness envelope me.
But can memories of Mom light the way,
a branch on the Tree of Life, leading to immortality?
I miss my mom,
from now until I meet my maker.
But when my last day on this earth is over, Dear God,
Bring me to the same place you decided to take her.
©️ 2020 by Andy Lax
