They touched our lives.
Through them, we knew love.
By them, we were.
To them, we gave.
A part of us, they became,
Extending themselves to us,
Reaching out to them.
Like a flower with its petals,
Rooted in love,
Fed by friendship,
Remove a single petal,
The flower will still grow,
But the flower's not the same.
Life is gone; Life goes on.
What was us is no more.
A new person advances.
Moving through life anticipating
Final victory over loss,
Resurrection and change.
We await our future reunion.
Faith, hope and love remain,
Seeing beyond seemingly endless sleep.
Author notes
I wrote this after my Grandmother died.
Written June 14th, 2004
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I will have to study your poetry, to see if I can detect the pattern in each of them. I think that is what makes it different than free style. Free style has no restrictions or patterns. Yours do. I am impressed!
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Very well penned. Just [proves the theory we are six degrees away from one anotrher through broken blood lines and family connections. I love the imagery and philosophy presented hear. Gregg
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