At first there were four
no hint of the future
just a dreamy evening
church bells in the distance
poetry at dusk.
How soon it would pass
who could have imagined
sorrows yet to come.

And then there was one
who sailed the Atlantic
bearing memories
like the sacred ashes
hope turned into dust
as will all our past.

Three then reunited:
like the gospel kings
journeyed to the far lands
of the northern mountains
and the icy lakes
to release the spirits
so they can roam free.

There, across the lake
spirit of the fourth
joined his precious kin
leaving all behind.

Mission thus accomplished
returning in silence
and their duty done
the three split again
into two
and one.