Funeral Night from Journal by Nerida

She sinks to a chair, cold cup of tea in front of her,
The weariness closes in like fog,
Such a long day of trying to be brave,
So many people, now the last one’s gone

And there’s no one in the chair in front of her,
And there’s a silence she hasn’t known before,
And the future stretches out like a desert night,
Can she possibly face it all alone?

Her eyes are dry, the weeks of weeping strangely stilled,
She’s known it would come so long,
But no one can know, can never be prepared,
For the time when a part of you is gone.

I pray comfort, for the woman left alone,
I pray peace, for those questions racing on,
I pray healing for the wounds so very raw,
So she will know she’s held, by the one who weeps with her

• Acoustic
• Australian
• Folk
• grief
• singer-songwriter
• widow
• widowed
• Canowindra