I am the anti-theist.
By nature,
I reject anything illogical.
Anything intangible.

You cannot trust a feeling.
But I feel her with me.

In the car that night,
Driving away with next-to-nothing
I sensed her quiet spirit.

In the courtroom,
Clutching her necklace
Like it was tying me to Earth,
I was holding her hand.

Even now,
As I write this
Looking at her picture
She is with me,
Wiping my tears and
Telling me I’ll be fine.

She is gone,
Honestly, realistically,
She is gone.
But she has not ceased to exist.

Maybe it’s the medication,
Or me wishing things were different.
Maybe I just fucking miss my mother.

She is a part of me,
And so I am forever broken.

I will always be a little lost.
But not without direction.

She is my North Star,
My East and West,
She is the tides rolling in and out,
She is birds flying in a V.

She is gone,
But not lost.
Not forgotten.
I cling to her memory.
She is my strength and my resolve,
However intangible that might be.
However illogical.

She is here.