Farewell

I heard a call through this April wind, the sound of a child crying, Her eyes too blessed with the simplicity of a tear, her soul blind to the suns rebirth; I looked up high and saw an eagle fly, over the early rays of light… And caught the sound of its last good-bye Memories pass the silent dawn, often bound to our own recollections, In homes so far from lands recalled, or those just outside the door; The measure of a man lays in the spirit of his life, in the will of his heart and soul, And those found in his last good-bye Oh this quiet April morning, lost to our memories past, Held in the warmth of a suns rebirth, blessed by that simple tear, An eagle flies to that ray of light, and catches our love confined To that single last good-bye For albert, from mark