(To C. On the (Recent) Deaths of Her Father and of Her Lover)

I have no power of pen
For raising spirits
From the dead,
Although you know I would,
If I could.

But I have learned to use my mind
In ways
That magic wand the world
To cease her reign of tears,
To smile,
And let me pass,
Another sun-kissed day.

I have survived,
By listening…
I listen to my beating heart.
She whispers, “It’s ok! You’re ok!”
With every breath,
The Song of Life
She sings.
(She
Always
Sings… so beautifully.)

And I have heard her sing in you before.

Now and then,
The waves of sound
Ripple ‘round my ankles,
Remind me of the ocean’s edge.
That place of healing,
To which,
My badly battered soul
Once,
Oh,
So thankfully,
Fled.
And how I found myself,
There,
With you,
(For one long harmonious moment),
Connected to,

A special friend.

And you said,
Don’t be afraid to walk in the dark.
Don’t be afraid of the unfamiliar paths That lie ahead.

And now I say,
Consider the
Random mental reruns
Of yesterday's
Pleasant past.
Turn your collar to the wind and
Embrace the day that lies ahead!

Let all Songs of Life be sung!

Then turn the key,
And make the world
Spin new again!

You know
It will,

Until.
Our own melodic compositions
Have been played out…
To the end,
And time has come for someone else to write,

This glorious requiem.




Michael S. True
12-2-07 last edit 7-15-13