Resurrection

No more do we meet on the everyday,
But when we do I see you looking down
As if you were talking to the ground,

Your Words now are few and fade at the very end,
With no chance of flying round,
A thought passes through my brain,
Is it the grave that drags you down?

You no longer talk to those upon the earth,
all you do and say is directed to the grave,
The sun shines pale through the mist,
Rising from the cold burial you have found.

The young flowers no longer giggle,
Their little roots do not drink
Of the sustenance you would bring,

The eyes no longer see the spring,
Only the decay that autumn rings
Fields of daffodils are no more,
They have withered to the ground,

The space between the clouds.
Where the sun comes shining through,
Not even the smallest of these things,
Carries air underneath your wings

Look!
As winter flees,
You can see the buds that had had their end,
Now they sing the song of spring,

Why not let the one that has had their end,
Begin again inside of you,
For their end is not your end,
But a resurrection of something new!