Holding Good

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Her essence lingered in the room after she left.

It wafted and softened like smoke from a blown out candle.

It cooled and dissipated, leaving the slightest fragrance.

Proof that something beautiful had passed through.

Even the air wished to cling to her presence.

Holding the good it had claimed – suspended.

Offering it as breath to the next passerby.

She had the kind of spirit that changed the light of a room.

Leaving things brighter than when she had found them.

Giving every other soul a spot light to shine in.

Bettering even the darkness – the remnants of her spirit glittered as they faded.

Twinkling so that I could see them from my own blindness.

Her light drew my eyes from what wasn’t to what was.

Her light gave me something to hope for.


12 thoughts on “Holding Good

  1. This is so lovely, Devan! It reminds me that I am having a friend come from out of town whose presence always leaves a place more beautiful than before. I’d say your poem just did that too. πŸ™‚

    Blessings ~ Wendy

  2. That means so much to me, Wendy! It’s wonderful to have a friend with such a presence. Thank you for sharing that with me. πŸ™‚

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