Not Carved In Stone
Cold bleak winter rain has fallen
On your velvet hair and skin;
Once a masterpiece in color,
Now washed clean and white again.
Visions paint a flower of beauty
From your love grown through the years;
Now within my storm of silence,
Petals shake from all my tears.
Through the pain I see the rainbow
Where you’ve found the pot of gold;
From your non-regretful outlook,
And your selfless servant mold.
Still from lost dreams shared together,
That I’ve hoped for like a child;
I must give them back to heaven,
Since my “what ifs” have run wild.
Now I stand beside the marker,
Looking at your granite stone;
Knowing well your soul was lifted
Straight to God at heaven’s throne.
As I see your name is etched there
With your birth date in the sun;
It seems wrong to carve your ending,
Since your true life’s just begun.
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