False Hope

This was written about a week after Mom passed away.

I feel distanced, disoriented;
In a stupor, a dream.
Is she gone?
I can still, vaguely, hear her laugh,
Feel her motherly croonings
Through my childish sobs.
I'm so lost without her.
Yet it seems such a short time
Since she's been here.
Her calm, beautiful presence still hanging in the air
Providing false hope of her steps around the corner
After I call her name.
But only a cold, stone silence follows
Where her warm reply once came.
She believed in me
When I doubted;
Took my hand and let me grow
Into someone I could be proud of.
I wish I could hear her soothing, melodic voice
Just one last time.
Mom? Where are you?
I don’t think I believe in heaven anymore.