The river stilled – water’s fair inflection
gently tripping over rock held static.
The tear in the tapestry of time shook only my soul.
The moon, the stars, the land of the living,
Became bleak and terribly still, since you flew.
A final flutter and you ascended hereafter,
Taking with you our love, leaving the husk
that held you. Broken but still lovely,
Too great and too precious for this world,
The mundane could not hold you – angels called you home.
Often I whisper your name, with solemn
declarations of love in tune with silent music.
Your essence – the bow that pulls the string,
creates the melody that sings
your loveliness and grace.
You will ever be the rhythm and the rhyme to our song.