Passing in My Arms
Passing in my arms,
His once full form, now wan,
Lifts like a zephyr to a new sphere,
Bathed in the release of sunshine
From the pain of night’s faltering light.
I, for my part, feel nothing
So jaded by the hammers and anvils of living.
And feel like another book has been filed
In the angel stacks of heaven.
Gasping, the last breath is caught by my fever,
Stroking his hair as if it still knew
The blessings I give for this awful departure;
This rude, unbidden bursting of petals
From a flower once fragrant to all.
Then, as if the knowing was there,
I feel the love surge,
The still real shadow of a wind swept tree,
And I chant the benediction I have chanted now to oft’
Passing yet another from my arms.
Edward C. Patterson
The Closet Clandestine http://www.amazon.com/dp/1438220502 (Paperback)