You are still, quiet; enfolded by the sound of me.
Mouth moving, soul keening deeply.
Then, each hour with you I note,
Your last stories, in rivulet moats.
First; cold torrential rain,
Clear, pure, they voice the pain.
They trace the path where grief resides,
Deathless echoes of love’s tides.
Then like the shards of shattered glass,
Sliced chips of the moments passed.
Sharp and jagged, they cut right through,
Stops short the time I have with you.
Heavy pearls that weigh me down,
Memories that make me drown
In beads of sorrow, twisted thread,
The words i’d counted, I left unsaid.
A mist of loss that clouds my sight,
So, your body cools in fading light,
And plays tricks on eyes by dead of night.
The shape of tears, of what could be,
Did you turn your face to me?
Meander the streams, gently flow,
Now you’re silent, now laid low.
Tears at dawn, a hopeful hue,
Colour the love I feel for you.
In the morning light they gleam,
Where you are is not a dream.
I can’t foresee an end to tears,
When i consider all the years.
My Dad, my rock, my strong soul.
So blessed with love, unconditional,
Through the tears, your love remains,
The loss of you is still my gain.
Audiogeist 