Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem


The air is growing colder.
Something is withdrawing 
deeper into itself, becoming
more distant, out of reach.
The evenings are heavy 
with longing.
Soon it will be time 
for you to go. 
A restlessness
now disturbs the still
and thoughts of that other place 
glow on the mind's horizon.
It grows brighter
in the gathering chill.
There will be a morning
when you will arise 
and wipe a thick 
film of frost from your eyes
and take one last look
at the world around you.
You will remember 
all that blossomed and grew, 
the love given
and received, 
the life you lived here.
You will be moved
to give thanks for all
that was bestowed upon you,
the gifts of the earth,
a universe that reflected
a creator's infinite light.
It will be time then
to find a place somewhere,
high up where there is lift,
extend your wings 
and take flight.

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