Sleep, Andrew, sleep:
when climbers inch walls,
we scramble, reach, and act as if
there is no way to fall.
But your smile and strangeness
makes timid people creep
and slide away from heaven
back to a cave of sleep.
You gaze out from windows
wave again, again,
seeking for an answer;
not why or where – but when?!
Crack the boring bubble,
take a dancing bow;
dancing in this moment,
in this now, for now.
Asleep, but never forget
we’re dancing at a Ball:
awake, asleep, you do know
the glory of it all.
What a beautiful celebration of your son's life; innocents asleep always seem to be living in a better space and we love them so much in that repose. You captured your feelings so acutely. Well written. Gay (@beachanny) http://beachanny.blogspot.com
ReplyDeleteI love it ... inspirational acknowledgement of life!
ReplyDeleteAnd of course I like this a real neat bit of writing.
ReplyDeleteNice poem, but it needs a photo of Andrew.
ReplyDelete