If, then, goodbye has already been…
When he died, when the sun went down, you cried not for his passing.
You cried because you loved him and had lost a love surpassing.
Mere skin and bones, and likes and hates, and all the lives that life awaits.
Through streams and paths, and rights and wrongs; the twists and turns the air performs.
And every day, to setting sun, we walk a further distance.
Moving on, and living life, and wrapped up in existence.
But still I see you when I sleep; our ankles in a stream.
But fail to ask, as you do me, if this is just a dream.
Before it all disintegrates, and turns back into dust.
And I’m left with only memories, and names carved into rust.
And love, and peace, and knowing; whispers from the wind that’s blowing.
Through the fields and out to sea. Free at last. Free at last.
With howling gale, and storming squall, the lighthouse slips its grounding.
The rocks fall dark, the moon shines bright; the waves maintain their pounding.
One of my own; a lifelong form, from start until last year.
Still things remain, with love maintained; and for this I shed a tear.