The quiet dome with silken threads,
That now hang lank and tattered.
Moves slowly in the gentle morning light.
It was the turmoil of the dark
That blew the night before,
That was this web’s undoing.
Here now, it’s quiet in the light,
Hanging shattered peacefully.

How things have changed,
The sudden storm has blown away,
The summer and it’s reflective cool.
No more mornings warming heat,
Everything has promise of quiet chill.
For here on the edge of winter,
And its reflective cool days
The heart inside devotion plays.

This winter is our discontent,
The bard is so often misquoted.
The error of peace with silent ringing,
Is naught but shattered air.
All must be derived from instinct alone,
This world of mine has stepped,
One more cog into what great end.
There is no one who can truthfully foretell.

From a base so deep as to be lost,
In all but treasured by a few.
Close friends, close family
Some too close to understand,
Others closer by their distance.
Now my friend has sailed across the sea
Only to be followed when I may.
Dear one I’ll miss your treasured company.

The heart remembers better than the head
So do not think that lives are forgotten.
The songs of spirit that friends deliver
With such accuracy clear the way
For real friends in truth cannot leave
Even when the clouds are tattered.
Gusts of clear wind blow with accuracy
Leaving behind the truth – and a clear sky.