I lay smiling,
staring up through the leaves,
underneath our favorite tree,
that old weeping willow.
It's a world of its own,
leaves envelope me,
the death of entropy,
if only for a short time.
I sit and I remember,
of days spent,
days unkempt and full of spirit,
I sit and I remember.
That day I was off singing with friends,
walking down dark, warm streets,
no padding to accompany my feet,
enjoying all that is sweet.
The sunlight tears through the leaves,
I can't help it,
you're staring back at me,
through this willow.

Your blue eyes pierce me.

I sit and I smile,
I sit and I cry,
I sit alone,
I am not lonely,
this place is our home.

We met here as children,
happy times,
smiles shared between friends,
love at its prime.
Everyday we meet,
streamers,
*****,
crayons held high,
in our small hands,
the three of us,
no time for judgement,
no time for worry,
far too many adventures to be had,
underneath this apricot tree.

The meetings grow infrequent,
we meet here as acquaintances,
we meet here as lovers,
knife for the carving of flesh and bark,
dreams of brighter days,
days obscured by a terrestrial haze,
we love,
we hate,
we grow,
we regress,
under this apricot tree.

Years pass,
the meetings are infrequent,
the successful no longer indulge,
there are only two of us left,
we meet as strangers under summer sky,
cursing God for death,
estrangement,
birth,
divorce,
broken,
realizations,
invent­ion,
convention,
peace,
understanding what love is,
so clear now,
how did we get this far,
underneath this apricot tree?

They meet here as children,
they meet as friends,
in its truest sense,
running,
pushing,
playing,
the days get lighter,
the sun a little brighter,
grazing fresh skin,
sun-kissed lullabies,
the toys are different,
but the game is the same,
underneath this apricot tree.

We meet here as children,
laying underneath our tree,
nostalgia feels our lungs,
the feeling is familiar,
but the landscape is inverted,
we love,
we hate,
we grow,
we regress,
estrangement,
birth,
divorce,
broken,
realizations,
inve­ntion,
convention,
peace,
running,
pushing,
playing,
everyday we meet,
streamers,
*****,
crayons held high,
in our small hands,
the three of us,
our children with us,
we meet here as one,
underneath this apricot tree.

I walk along the shoreline,
wind blowing through the south-side trees,
around my face streams a familiar scent,
the smell of fresh pine.

This lake is one of many,
the North is a wonderful time,
crime is negligible,
the people are not many.

Whispers come rustling through the leaves,
they tell me stories,
of love and of glory,
they tell of a long lost people.

They are my people is some ways,
we are interconnected,
strung together on the strings,
the same dichotomy.

I wonder if they're watching me now,
are they weeping for their loss,
or are they rejoicing in my freedom,
yes,
this is our kingdom.

There is always hope,
though we often sway,
caught in the tempest,
the only remedy is to pray.
Forgive our trespasses,
giants of steel,
piercing the earth,
no steward are we.
Ravaged lands,
children lost,
endless confrontation,
deceptive use of the cross.
Forgive us,
we know not what we do,
this has ever been the truth,
we are all hopeless without trust.

But,
in this wasteland there is love,
hope for a better tomorrow,
idealism going above.

There is always hope,
despite the torrent of decay,
the sun peaks over the clouds,
at the end of the day.

Intelligent,
willpower beyond recognition,
far beyond our scope,
dreaming gently of great things.

Your intentions were pure,
they always are,
I find it odd,
how easily you fell away.

Your shoulders are burdened,
your countenance taxed,
weight of the world,
so afraid of death.

So much fear,
you've lost your way,
don't be afraid,
your good deeds do not go unpunished,

You are so proud,
and rightly so,
you are among the greats,
and much will be your reward one day.

What you lack is courage,
belief without sight,
truth without proof,
love without reservation,
but as luck would have it,
you already have it,
traits simply waiting for re-inclination.

Man of honor,
the standard of valor,
strong in both spirit and stature,
holding tight to your breast,
the God of love.

Stern,
powerful,
no anger in the face,
just hope for brighter days.

Solemn patriarch,
guiding his sheep,
spirit stark with might,
our success is yours to keep.

Wracked with affliction,
body ravaged by the unnatural,
smile fades away,
struggling against the current,
the supernatural.

In the end you found your answer,
faith exceeding human fear,
I have no doubt in my mind,
where you ended up,
for you I stem my tears,
I miss you grandpa.

Wise beyond your years,
soul so ancient,
strong in spirit,
holding tight the change of the years.

Your advice is always loving,
always relevant,
but that's just your style,
just the way that you paint.

Brush strokes of wisdom,
swirls of honesty,
texture with experience,
touched with glaze for preservation,
divine inspiration.

Always patient,
profound,
always accepting,
mind free from the world,
persona clear,
and never afraid of the human tear.