We might think of them as a memory,

the pain of losing them,

the loss of heartfelt passions and laughs,

we might imagine them a memory.

 

Yet, their shadows can still rise,

it is where we left them,

forced to say good-bye,

we remembered how they stood against the wall.

 

Oh to have the fortitude,

of those quiet souls,

the bodies left behind,

and yet still, the strength they show beyond.

 

We wondered out loud,

why should I be left alive,

who’s the lucky one,

who’s the recorder of their sweet mystique.

 

I wander sometimes quite a distance,

before I land,

I recognize my shadow always remains,

it is a spectacular sunlight.

 

Oh, to hold the sweet caress of yesterday,

to know the beauty we have all a reveal,

to touch the universe in one short life,

is to know the serenity of time …

 

It is inside the mystery of time,

when our shadows rise again.