Passing It Down

Reads: 112  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A dedication to the lost, the found, and the living.

Also, unexpected. But welcome all the same.

Submitted: November 21, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 21, 2018

A A A

A A A


Passing it Down

 

Two lovers in a shell,

One dying, one well.

He who inhales the seconds,

Her who gives life to the present.

 

He who turns to her,

He who is trying to remember;

The memories of a young man,

The bittersweet of their life’s plan.

 

How we used to dance,

The heartbeat of a trance.

The hunt for all things elusive,

In the end, all things conclusive.

 

How did we lose us,

Like the rolling quarters on the old bus?

 

We’re not to blame,

So much is all the same.

Things like this can’t be changed,

Planning life only to have it rearranged.

 

I’ll never change how I feel,

Because I can’t accept this as being real.

It seems only sometime then,

We’d said we could do it all again.

 

Only not now,

No matter how much we ask how.

But there is one place I want to see,

Before this life will have set me free.

 

And so the lovers left their shell,

Up the cliff to the end of the dwell.

And gazed out over the skyline,

Blanketed across, the sun and its shine.

 

And their hands touched,

One’s warm, one’s clutched.

Without breaking their eyes from the sea,

They kissed one last time, he and she.

 

And so he said,

Think of me not as having pled.

I want what will be the best for you;

Someday, you will know that it is true.

 

But how do I go on?

Even now, you not even gone.

I’ll still weep the same way,

Knowing that you are never here to stay.

 

No one is,

Shook the voice of his.

But if we have believed it before,

Then we will in harmony forevermore.

I believe you,

No matter what we went through;

That one day we can be home,

That among this land we may forever roam.


 

And he let the man come around,

Digging his heels deeper into the ground;

Pushing ever westward towards the sea,

Catching the waves and buckling his knees.

 

He felt the dulling in his chest;

It meant his body was to be put to rest.

 

And so I held on tight,

Hands to stop him from going to the light.

 

Her desperate grip was slipping,

The waves beneath merely dripping.

 

I shut my eyes,

And as I continued to rise,

I fell back in surprise,

 

Further towards the endless sky.

 

He gave his breath,

To embrace death.

She gave her heart,

To watch him depart.

 

And so ended his epitaph,

She left to write the remaining half.

 

No matter if you believe,

That we are all left to grieve;

Think only of the end,

When you will see them again.

 

A dedication to the lost, the found, and the living.

 


© Copyright 2019 Dan Zuniga. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments