I hear the wind, sweeping past the lake,
And the sighing that trees in the evening make,
And the moon, in its usual beautiful way,
Is spilling like satin amongst the waves.
The air holds a bit of yesterday's storm,
Though the night, overall, is placid and warm.
Yet off to the east, the sky speaks of warning,
With flashes and rumbles that threaten the morning.
My mind slips to you, and my eyes cloud with worry,
Though I've fear for the future, I wish it to hurry.
A day's time hence from this hour's unease,
With time's quiet passing our waiting shall cease.
No simple words would honor the heart,
Of this man who has left such a hallowed mark,
On a world and the people who hold him so dear,
And a girl who avoided letting anyone near.
So I write with my heart and I weep on my knees,
I pray to your God, and touch my tears to the breeze.
It's not much to offer, but it's all that I know.
Please be well.
Please don't go.