It is the advent of your birthday
I sit in the late afternoon
and listen to the songs in the trees
the buzz of wings in the reeds
and marvel at the wonder of it all
watching clouds slowly sail over the hill.

A year ago we found this place
and dared to climb the wall and sit upon this bench
you to the left, me to the right
and stared at our view of paradise
both gratefully shaking the guiding hand of fate
with which we had been blessed
Yet in the full knowing that winter
would have to be lived through
before summer would come with its' gift

Today as though
on anothers' skin
I feel the warmth of the sun as
brilliant light illuminates that same heaven
but all has changed
the winter was far worse
and the spring brought awful loss
darker and colder than any winter night
and now I sit again on summers' bench
built for two
hoping I share it with your free and
joyous spirit
hoping that you are here
wondering if
you are so very near

I cannot measure in time
or treasure of any earthly kind
the loss I feel
for the sun can shine upon this garden
and warm the ragged back of Rudland Rigg
yet there's no warmth this summer
for me without you
I only see shadows cross the hill
I am sorry
I left you alone in that terrible void
without your love.
I am sorry
and there are
no more words.

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