Photo by Nick Isbister

You lie still, in silent belonging
Under the clay land of your birth.
Your name on the headstone,
Starkly outlined in grey mist.

I stood at your graveside.
Hushed with gratitude
And whispered farewell.

You will never know
All that you did for me.
Your wisdom shed a light
Over the stony landscapes
Of my solitary, tired mind.
You pried open my thinking
Peeling away smothered,
Hidden pathways,
Of mystery and imagination.

It would be you, my old friend,
You of all people,
Who would lift my face upwards
And with the gentlest of intent,
Invite me right now…

To lean into my own future
And bravely leave you behind.