After the fall:
endless winter, season of regret.
Cold lived inside my bones
even as I stoked the fires
that would not let me
forget --

How beautiful
the many-colored moments
of our long passage to goodbye.
That February I poured my whole self
into the practice of the practical,
channeling my concentration
on taking small sips of soup,
sustenance for the body.

As for my soul, it slept,
dreaming of its awakening
with you, waking to silent wails.
Body mirrored back as I failed
to find the strength to open my eyes.
I tucked my heart beneath the covers
and missed the spring that year,
tender flowers, gift of rain...

I walked outside one day, but met
the crushing weight of summer sun,
which sent me spiraling back. Still, the wind
carried me through another fall. Now, again,
winter's snowy blanket beckons.
I long to lay me down,
to surrender seasons.

To sleep -- sweet oblivion!
Void, of course, I am
slipping from this life into a gentle rising.
Like the spring I fell in love with you,
I am ever bouyant and unaware,
at the mercy of love, unbending
to seasonal affect.