The flowers bid me into Spring
And your absence clings to me
Like the scent of the buzzing creatures
Keeping busy and awake
Only you are busy
Answering questions that I fear
And though your sleep extends beyond existence
Your loneliness is terrifying
Even to me
Not alone, but afraid
Reminded of callous pasts
And mistaken fortunes
And reckless selfishness
And the now
And the here
And tomorrow
(Will it happen?)
And my future
(Is it written, or does my memory end
Here?)
The shaking goes back and forth and
Back and forth
Amidst the tears
Flowing for the eyes they shall not see again
And the love they will not hear expressed
Except for whispers in the wind
Tricks of the memory for the heart
They do not mean to call you back
But to bid your journey well
But to grant you Love and Light
That your solitude is less painful
Than ours shall be
I tread upon the living soil
Caressing the shrieks of the dead
Crying out for past regret