In the Stillness

At the low tide, the ocean at its ebb barefoot I went along the shallow water’s edge searching for sea-shells among the wrecks of time that you had asked me to bring to you, for you were home in the last days and you were in the stillness that precedes the void, yet, whilst your fingers were able you created beauty out of dead things, I know now that in your life here with me beauty sprang up wherever you walked, and on your journey home all along the sea-weed, along the shore and the sand blossoms have bloomed, and there among the washed grey stones beautiful flowers have raised their timid heads looking for you, and in your slow passing from this world to the next you gave me more than I could give you if I lived a thousand lifetimes.