The Earth is Still Warm
When I am not with you,
the earth is still warm
from hours that are seen no more.
I can feel the rhythm of yesterday
asking questions
when everything collects on the currents
of our own shadows.
I cast last night among the hills
where we were young and thoughtless
peered above the words
Standing
before my eyes.
Where butterflies lived inside a song
Waiting
for the world to sing.
Looking to tell a story
somehow different
from any
ever written down,
I began unlocking the mysteries of life.
I found that the beauty
of growing old
had kept its secrets well,
from my ears.
In the middle of the wonder
there must surely
lay a seed of hope in the meadows
where you and I saw fireflies
in the still of night.
Perhaps there,
we can still hear the echo
of its footsteps.
Eternity wanders through my mind
seeking praise
while the breath of truth
shows the world its strong arms.
Life awakens
to close the door on lessons learned
and yet, the earth
is still warm.
