When someone passes, yes the body itself is gone, but the spirit and soul wander leaving fingerprints on the one's left behind.

*

She sees him in the snowfall - light and quiet - yet sparkling as it falls and hits the pavement.
She sees him in people's eyes - lost in the color
She sees him in the laughter that surrounds her - it fills her heart
She sees him while driving - far and wide touching corner to corner
She sees him in the color red - bold and full
She feels him in the wind, in the sunlight, in the cold, in the sand, snow, rain, leaves.
She feels him while tears rush down her cheekbones
She feels him while she twirls around the dance floor - precise movement
She feels him in the never ending tune - tapping to the rhythm of her heartbeat.
She sees him in the bad days, but also the good.

He left behind stardust that is imprinted on her heart
He is at rest now - high in the clouds - playing on stars
And when she feels lost, he throws some more stardust down from heaven right where she can see it.

Yes the body is no longer there, but those who pass, truly never pass.
"For they are like the wind" and never leave us.
They become our new constant
Something that will never run, disappear, or fall
Our new infinite infinity

Rain is one of my favorite things ...
The sound as it hits the ground
Or the smell as it fills the air

The rain is calming and quiet
Yet, fills the soul with every drop

It hear it from the basement window
I hear it from the back of the red car
I hear it from the couch in your living room

The rain soaks up our hearts in its downpour
& Later it drips slowly from our eyes and down our checks

Yet, rain is still my fondest memory of you

The paint brush runs across your bare skin
You watch me paint with all different colors - blues, blacks, greens, yellows, reds - vibrant, yet calm

Your eyes widen as the canvas on your back blossoms
Blossoms with flowers and faces and color

As the paint brush runs across your delicate skin, we lay entangled in the linen sheets.

We lay intertwined in all the vivacious colors
You told me to paint over all the scars on your skin, to create something beautiful from the broken pieces

So I painted a beautiful canvas - I created *art

Let me be the cursive lines that flow from the black ink to your torn up notebook.

Let me be the harmony in your ears
Let me be what you write about at 2 am

Let the thoughts of us transfer to your pen
Flow from your mind and onto the white blank page.

I keep driving
Out to the country side to all the places we used to go
I keep driving
To the barn we had our first kiss
I keep driving
To the field where our eyes danced and our laughter echoed under all the pretty lights strung in the night sky
I keep driving
Wondering - trying to find you in all the lost places
Trying to find you in the lost space, the lost time
I keep driving
I run out of gas

This is a sad poem

He had instilled in her head that no one would ever see oceans in her eyes again -- that no one would ever love her again.

Therefore, the gardens of her heart were guarded with barbed wire -- around every corner, every crevasse.

Then one day, someone started to remove the stitches
However, it proved to all be lie.
The feeling of rejection was all too familiar.

And when the same thing happened again, the concrete around her heart hardened. No sunshine shown into her eyes. The sound of rain was a soundtrack on repeat in her ears.

The poem doesn't have a happy ending.

Let me be your  breath
Inhale and exhale me slowly - quietly
Let me fill your lungs with every touch, every word
Until your lungs are filled completely
Let me teach you how to breathe again.