Six feet about entomb my silks
though it’s not there that I lay still

My flight descends upon your shoulder heavily
as time suspends all I have lived and carried
yet
not my will, not my soul
my soul will carry

Angels sing the song of grief
a voice in tune with Gabriel’s
an infant spreads about white petals
though for today, not at my feet

My love takes in a final scene
with me, a final breath
though pain consumes
with thoughts of death
his face appears serene

He stays behind and cries, he cries
for me, for him, for us
Cry not for silks, oh love, my dear
an empty box is all that sits before you

As you lay down a flower
and earth atop that box
I am in your mind, your soul and heart
for it is there, where mine will carry on