All of you must know how much I loved
Never did I stint on saying so.
In death you were the song that let me go
To sleep in beauty, dancing as I sang you.
And though I'm gone, don't think that I'll
Just think of me as waiting, even though,
Agnostic or believer, you may know
No certainty beyond what love can tell you.
Each of you still lives within my heart.
Though I am not, I am. So is the truth
Opposed to sense, more relevant than thought.
What is, is often what could never be.
Nor need you grieve, though we may seem apart.
Sing with me, as we look back with ruth,
Each the source of what sweet balm we sought,
No mother and children more in touch than we,
Deep within life's unsolved
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.