Death,
the immortal power,
has no place
in time.

It scorns the
lasting gravitas
that drives the desolate
mourner
to stare at
granite graves.

So here I stand,
driven by winds
I cannot see,
but sense.
Where years
and people pass
and only love
remains.

Where rites
now relics of the past
are muted.
Where prayers are uttered,
tears are shed,
and memories burn;
the fire
without the flame.

But just as love in life
can lessen pain,
so too
in death
it salves our earthly
fears.

Please,
take this worldly wreath
upon your marble breast
and breathe,
and let your breath restore to life
its miracle of meaning.

For now,
though bent in grief,
I hear your sigh
and see the gifts you brought
and sacrificed
for others.

No less in love
or memory dimmed
by time.
your soul redeems the passion
deep within.

Your face
still vibrant
fills my empty space,
your love,
a loss
I cannot reimburse.

Though servants
to our fate
we must remain,
life's more than flesh
and doesn't end in death.

And though
you left
your presence
still remains
and not without
the backward glance
you gave.

Though hidden by
the darkness
in between
You were, you are
and ever more will
be,

Dad.

So rest you gentle soul
within my presence.
Life,
still palpable,
Love your
lasting legacy.

Death
the immortal power
has
no time here.