When I’m gone, don’t grieve,
for even if you’d no longer
see me race across the hills.
I’ll leave my footprints on the trails.
When I’m gone, don’t grieve,
for death cannot mute my songs.
I’ll lend my voice to the sparrows,
so they may wake you each dawn.
When I’m gone, don’t grieve,
afraid you can feel no more
the trembling of my heart.
It throbs with your laugh and cry.
When I’m gone, don’t grieve,
for I’m never gone. I’m the
cold rain on your shoulders,
the warm sunshine on your face.
Redmoon
Eve of Hallows 2024
(Redmoon of Bukidnon likes to describe himself as a trying hard poet.)
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