I saw a white horse and an eagle fly on my way home.
I saw redbud trees and baby green leaves,
But I still don't feel anything.
I mourn.

Are you dead, or are you gone?
Does it matter either way?
Is it night or is it day?
Or just the cold gray of another dawn?
I mourn.

I could rend my hair and roll in ashes,
But I'd rather shave your head and sackcloth you.
And there's no telling what I would do to you
If only I could find you.
Where have you gone?

And so I mourn.

-jenn