He loved, and when he loved
It was with complete submission,
Unconditionally, full hearted,
Unabashed, and with every
Fiber of his being.
Those he loved came first, above all
With no reservations, no hesitation,
No second thought, no excuses,
With no agenda.
Those he loved were placed on a pedestal,
Raised above and beyond where mere
Acquaintance mingle. Where promises made
Are kept with nary a doubt. Whether they were
Deserving or not, it did not matter.
He loved, and it was never questioned
Or left to wonder. It was shown daily in
Actions and spoke in words, in subtle
Reminders, by gesture, notes, and deeds.
He loved. Or rather, He Loves.
Those of us who are blessed to
Have felt his affection and acceptance,
Or were given advice, knowledge, insight
Or help, now feel the deep void left
By his absence.
Three hundred sixty-five marks the day
We last touched, conversed, whispered
I love You, shared a meal, laughter, and
Made plans for our future.
Too many days and nights have gone by.
Too many empty days and empty nights
Without you, and now to face the next
Three hundred sixty-five bereft.
He loved. He loves still. I feel it in my
Heart, in my Soul, and my bones. Love that
Lasts an eternity, beyond the beyond.
Enough love to last the next life and the next.
Category: Poems