Presence


A phone call.

Deep breath.

Questions.

Confusion.

Waiting.

A diagnosis.

Tears, because …

Knees hitting carpet.

Desperation and hope.

Head in hands.

Pleading.

Inadequate words.

Whispers shattering silence.

And, then …

I’m here, dear one. 

I’m here. 

Storms clouds swelling.

Fists ready.

Strength, not my own.

Still breathing.

Peace.

He’s here. 



Chelsey Whitlow 

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