Yasin Johnson

The Weight of Your Light

Your chair still leans toward the window,

as if you might return to watch

the slow bloom of morning.

Dust drifts in the sunbeam—

tiny lanterns carrying your laughter

into the quiet corners.

I keep finding you in the smallest places:

the crease of a well-worn book,

the faint scent of cedar in your scarf,

the way the wind pauses

before it bends the trees.

Grief is not the absence of you—

it is the shape you left behind,

a hollow that holds

the weight of your light.

I carry it carefully,

like a candle in a trembling hand.

* *He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. -Revelation 21:4 **

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