Friday, November 20, 2009


I thought about you last night.
I think about you every night.
It is something I do, because I can.

But last night you were in my dreams.
One of those, "so real you can touch"
dreams that awaken you in cold sweats and

make you clench your eyes, hoping to see
one more glimpse, or share one more moment
before what little sleep you get evades them.

You were there, by my side with smile wide,
and eyes that stayed trained only on me.
When we walked, I became your vision, steering you

around obstacle and hazard in our way.
My arm around your shoulder, feeling the tremor
in your every breath that landed upon my nape

keeping my pilot light well lit, and reminding
of the vibrancy you have given my purpose.
And we walked, because that's what we did.

Sunshine or rain, our footsteps never faltered.
Snow and sand, our trek was not deterred.
In sickness and in health, as you always said

not promises we had exchanged before God,
but a life commitment we shared in what
our love espoused. You were my sun and moon,

you walk our heaven amongst the stars
we counted in futility, but as endless
as this love remains. A lifeline

that joins our hearts still; a tether
that keeps your being alive within me,
an attachment that illness could not dampen,

and the darkness of death cannot shadow.
So we meet often in my dreams knowing that
your influences and direction serve me still.

In our last moments in life, your beauty,
hidden within the emaciated form you had taken,
your brilliant auburn fire had become

sparsely patched and faded, your eyes were
dim flickers of the enlightening flame
that warmed my heart and soul, but still glowed

for the sight of me. Your voice lay silent,
words of love only played on the periphery
of your vacant stare. Your lips, dried and cracked,

pursed and puckered from your disease still
desired to feel the touch of my own bringing you
the sensation you always awaited. It brought it out.

Your smile. Faint, but apparent, you knew.
Beauty. It lived in you even when death struggled
to wrestle it from my firm grip. I held on.

And I continue to hold onto the meaning
of what we shared. The love. The attachment.
The part of you that never died. The last lasting gift.

From me to you.

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