How do you mourn the living?
Whose hands are still warm and giving.
How to explain the heart’s mystery,
Defining more than history.
Missing one, while still making memories.
Feeling the pull of both life and death:
The here and now and the gone.
Is this nothing but a con?
When the shadow of the future fell
One had to squint to see the slight tell.
Crossing some barrier of space and time.
It was as silent as a mime.
Testing destiny, clinging to fate.
The hour is missing and so is the date.
But the clock on the mantle carries a long face.
Long yellowed is the lace
On which it sits upon.
I stare, waiting for dawn.
How lost and unsure
What used to be strong and pure.
Makes my heart weep
To see you fall, deep asleep.