How could I have left you standing out in the cold
Looking in the window at the room’s perceived warmth
A warmth solely dependent on the fire in the hearth
And nothing to do with my heart.
My only excuse then, those many years ago
Was ignorance and fear of the unknown,
Protecting the children, of course, from the unseen
In my own rigid, unbending way.
You were always strong, walking your path, knowing yourself,
And selfless, giving pieces of your heart
To the wayward and the weary,
Drawing them into your light, into your being.
Amazing it seemed then that my so called normal life,
Was unfulfilled, while yours was rich with meaning.
You embraced your dying with no regrets
Leaving me to face the questions of everyday life.
How cruel I was in my naiveté, how patient were you,
That at the last you asked me to stay even into the night,
Stay in your room with the revolving door,
Caught up in the endless stream of your friends.
Love, yes, I have witnessed pure and true love,
Seen with my eyes a love that finds no differences
And has no boundaries. A love that surpasses gender and colour
And never dies, for I feel it still.
Ina
