your foot
prints
on the sand
run deep,

like the
fall of
new shed
snow upon
a white
dipped
field.

and I
will follow
you there
too,

and praise
to all
that is
you and
ancestors
sleeping,

and remind
myself
that I
am not
dreaming.

the silhouette
of your
body
stands before
the sun,

and my
eyes
gratefully
retrace it
over and
over again.

like rain
flowing
down
to root
on
a mountain
hill side
spruce.

it is
improbable
to grow
without
you.

and so
we begin
our life
circle.

to one
another,

like migrant
birds
knowing
when to
take flight.

just as
we have
for a
thousand
years
before.

our spirits
will sing
and take
union
into the

night.

and we
will never
leave
each other's
side again...