I called you up the other day,
to ask again about the way,
we all went forward
a fleet of love heading his day.
There were trees along the avenue,
laden with snow, heavy waves somber
all leading the way to his final stay.
There is a true relief in knowing surreal,
when we cannot put our arms around real
we instead will gaze ahead,
to memorize the moments when we
could know the love we share is a forever
seam, not certain of any impulsive end
for we are all cry quiet nostalgic dreams of love.
I remember that day like it was yesterday,
and this morning when along my way,
I looked in the skies to see the new melt
the trees bending to speak how sweet the way
we can recall our only chance to say good bye,
it was that bittersweet close to a chapter
His living flesh that now each day we celebrate.
It is that wintry mix,
the trees a fresh pass of summer’s end,
when the chill of our own reality,
would sudden become the thrill of knowing
he was and is and always will be here nearby
no matter the frailty of a moment’s recall,
we love solemn sound we hear we feel each day.
And in our hearts we will sing again today,
to know this young man, this Billy is today.