I took your hand and walked a sorry mile.
I wore my feet to sheds of skin and bone.
I held you gentle face within my grasp.
I whispered to you tales of great sorrow.
You held my hand and lead me through a forest.
You gave me shoes and cloth to bind my feet.
You smiled at my calloused skin against your face.
You laughed and joked and sang you were so merry.
I watched you like a flower spring to blossom.
I watched you bloom in summers gentle sway.
I watched when autumn came abounding.
I watched you slowly start to whither away.
But I could not watch the winter, who's grasp is icy cold.
I could not watch you slowly die inside.
I could not watch the wind blow your frail skin to dust.
So I hid and didn't look like seeing made it true.
When turning of the seasons brings life again anew.
I went outside a looking. A looking for you.
I think I saw you somewhere, a shadow in the wind.
A part of every creature, plant who's life again begins.