Life after death. In my grief I am shrouded in a dark mist, waiting for the clouds to pass, the storm to abate. Could I hope to speak with you again? The physical connection lost, the spiritual still alive?
“Can you hear me, our unfinished conversations”?
“Can you see me”?
“Are you now dancing together as you once did, holding hands”?
I sacredly guard your love letters, your words lie between you, as in life, now in death.
I will forever, bridge the gap, holding the lines of communication open, so that you may once again converse.
This is what came to me seeing the above photo prompt.