• Dear son, I cannot speak, and yet
    I have so much to say to you,
    Too much for time and will to net.
    Life goes with just this last adieu.

    I have so much to say to you,
    Far more than I can now convey.
    Life goes with just this last adieu
    To serve as what I want to say.

    Far more than I can now convey,
    I love you with a love that yearns
    To serve as what I want to say,
    Ablaze with joy that bleeds and burns.

    I love you with a love that yearns
    Too much for time and will to net.
    Ablaze with joy that bleeds and burns,
    Dear son, I cannot speak, and yet
    i have so much to say to you.

    But Death can also be a dance.
    Each knows by heart its final steps.
    A life immersed in pain, perhaps,
    Too much controlled by circumstance,
    Has but to turn to come to rest.

    Yet Every moment sings with fascination
    As silence sits behind the vivid veil.
    There is no rock not rife with revelation,
    Nor word that will not ultimately fail.
    Likewise, we are masks upon the void,
    Uncreated at our empty core,
    Mirror of what cannot be destroyed,
    The nothing that the thing is destined for.
    The being of our being is delight;
    The nothing of our nothing, pure perfection.
    Just beyond our day is utter night;
    Just within our heart, its blank reflection.
    The gift of life brings joy well worth the pain;
    The gift of death brings us home again.