You were never one for poetry,
But I like to think you saw it in the simple things,
Because you walked the woods that made me wonder as a child,
The ones that made me dream.
And the woods are made of spaces between trees,
Just like a poem is made of spaces between words like these,
And life is made of spaces between people just like you and me--
Spaces through which wind blows and where rain falls
And where people walk at nightfall.
It was in that space I heard you call me home
One final time to tell me what I needed to know:
That alone among all the truths I knew,
There was one like a thin and unsupposing tree that grew
A little taller than the rest and drew
The sun's first rays,
And that was that love can outlive every wrong,
And in love's mouth the darkest truths are songs.
No comments:
Post a Comment