Far Past the Highway’s End

Delaware Water Gap

Far past the highway’s end

where the willows weep

and the river sighs,

damp earth pulls the air

and wraps itself 

around this place of loss.

The river has taken my friend

who desperately embraced

life’s end – and I stand numb

on the river bank.

A hundred rocks I could throw –

for nothing.

I say Rise up Lazarus,

don’t be dead –

but he says smiling,

my dove,

I must be dead by now.

He is gone, and

I weep –

in jagged gasps I cry

Death is so unkind.

He says,

NO, No, no,

the Universe is all there is.

Note: This was written for my friend, and fellow musician, Dennis McCampbell (1958 – 1979).

For my readers:

I have suffered major depression from my earliest memory. After many trials and errors, I found a treatment plan that works, and am able to function normally.

Depression, in whatever form, is terrifying, and in so many, many cases, fatal, but there is hope.

If you ever find yourself so bereft that only suicide is left, in the US call 911 and just say, I need help. In the UK, call 999.

I’m not sure what the emergency number is in other nations, but please know that the world is a better place with you IN IT.

Recovery is a long, complicated road, but it is so worth it, and so possible. More people love you than you know. The pain passes, and life can still hold hope. xoxoxox

Author: Virginia Wagner Galfo

These are scary times. Prepare yourself to take a stand for what is right. God damn it, just be kind!

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