I feel you in the wind
wrapping around me
like blankets your mother made
yet you are ever intangible.

I see you in light
filtering through leaves
that spread upon branches
like veins of the sky.

I hear you in songs and tales
written of others.
Deeds both great and terrible
They speak to me
knowing that I would
one day weep with a smile.

These are things
unceasing and present
yet I am glad to keep you with me
Through these mediums
I know there is no death.