Not for you, those cold clothes
woven of worry and made ragged with regret.
You lived your final hours fearlessly, as if becalmed,
with a whole life yet to fetch that other shore.
You slipped away as gracefully as you lived,
with sails full and love bubbling in your wake.
We are bereft, and, while you have started a new journey,
it is us, not you, who are left all at sea.
The echoes of your life’s voyage,
of your singing and your laughter,
are fading to shadows.
You are missing, and we?
- We are lost.
But love's immortal set drifts not.
And, as mountains weather to plains,
In time, these jagged shards of loss
will smooth to memory’s golden jewels
and all that you gave us,
will become all that we will need.
Sailing to windward
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/missing-presumed-lost/
