There is tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,
Each rolls on, dark, unrepentant.
Dry days heap one on one in dusting heaps since you plunged forth,
Quiet in your falling,
Silent off slipping,
But inwardly, awkwardly utterly missed.
You were not lost, not misplaced careless.
There just came a time when the depths called high.
We knew they would.
You dove on brave, on some days,
Frightened others but always bold.
No regret left, except for those left,
In tears behind.
You met the night headlong,
Even in that last, first free fall.
Complete in brokenness.
You gave me courage to walk when I must walk,
Feel when I must feel,
And fold when it’s time to give in,
Let the cards lie.
You need no stone to hold you down or scratch you out.
I hold your name.
I speak you, smile you.
How better could you be written?
I sometimes laugh at you,
Tease you grave long gone.
In that I honour you.
I pray to keep you raw, real, rough-edged and ragged as you were.
I would have you no one else.
My breath is your blessing.
As I rise, I fall, you are not lost.
Now your spirit springs from my memory,
As I sprung forth,
Trampolining from your dreams.
Falling, soaring, up or down.
I meet you.
I’ll meet you.
Catch the crisp cup of mountain skies,
Gasp green air.
Hands held, walk together.