True friends

come in the silence

phone, shrill, pierces night

horror unfurls, tests sanity

spreads her dark wing’ed self

smothering light …

if you can breathe once

if you can breathe once more

with time, with solace, with hope

you will rise.

They hold you with their words

those who cannot knock on the door

and gathering horror, curse it gone

they hold you with their tenderness

those who travel, weary eyed, to touch

your ache and stand, silent beside you.

True friends

come in the silence

crawling on knees, searching for

an end to pain, curled in circles

sudden diminishment of wellness

as scoured pot will seem ruined

as something dull welcomes tarnish

lose the way to wholeness

fall because standing is no longer

cease crying for no tears exist

that can describe this fear.

If you can hold on until tomorrow

If you can stay this moment until another

you will rise.

They come in messages, letters, words

translation to your heart

they come, in voices in the void

holding you up when you start to walk

and gathering terror, curse it gone

now aching, once invulnerable

grey headed, bright eyed

standing behind you lest you collapse

the gentle weight of their support

a divining rod in water

turning, turning, turning

reaching for support thought obliterated

reaching for hope thought extinquished

true friends

come in the silence.

(Title attributed to poet Mira Hadlow, written in a message thread)