And if one day
You are without me,
Meandering the dream of waking life-
An idle cloud blown by a breeze
On the cobalt palette of sky-
And you have left me behind
Because our love is dissipated,
You should not look for me
In the prism of morning.
I will not be on the crest of any mountain,
Nor in the whispered weeps of the willow tree.
The latent waters of desire will not ripple with the stone of my memory.
But if the vines of uncertainty
And grounded you,
And you find yourself
And if I sit in the back of your mind-
Decomposing as leaves do and dark bark,
As the unhurried death of autumn does,
Then dig yourself into me,
Plant yourself in me.
And we will spring forth from the loam
Of our undying love.
You will not forget me so easily.