Shadow of Death
He walks in shadows
these last days
locked in himself
where no one can enter.
Our expectations to glimpse
his visions are futile.
This is his travel time;
a solo journey,
a time for him to gather
his history, while in our
company, not as companions,
as observers.
We hang close
wishing an awakening
where we could discover
some function we'd have,
where we could partake,
where we could provide.
We sit here, instead, just
being and taking space.
We'll have our own solitary
journey.
His may not be the same,
as his life was not the same.
He shows us his method,
a gift and love surrounds us all
with its embrace.
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