The trees were golden stems,
woven leaves a collage of dreams
spoken to the universe of love.
I remember how non-assuming
that you always seemed to be.
You smelled of Mulberry wine
and of sweet pomegranates.
Your scent lingered long after
you passed through a room.
Why didn't I say the words more?
Three words that hung in the air
slowly floating away
on the wings of regret.
I love you...was that so hard to say?
I thought you would always be around.
I could not imagine my world
without you in it.
You seldom laughed
but whenever you did
it shook my foundations
with its crystal clarity.
Then I would climb upon your lap
and I would find the complete span
of your arms that had become
my circle of comfort, of joy.
Why had I ever allowed
you to slip from my sight?
Why had I thought that I was too old
to shower you with hugs and kisses?
But the trees were golden stems,
woven leaves of your life's collage
on the day that you passed on
to that other side
where I could not come
and I could not see you.
My universe of love had moved
to the river of everlasting life.
Waiting for that joyous day
when your wayward grand-daughter
would run up an umber hill
to that City of Gold
and listen for your heartbeat.
I would hug you and sit upon your lap,
never again to be apart.
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