Our Time…

Be still my darling, and hold my hand for me…
The sounds are getting quieter, and things are hard to see.
I’m not afraid, like I thought I’d be, though I see you’re weeping so…
If it were in my power, I’d be the last to go.

But mourn not for my passing, rather think upon the day…
When we shall stand again together, and I shall touch your face.
So in the nights that feel alone, and you need me to be there…
Go to where we used to meet, where once I touched your hair.

Look upon the heavens, and try to see our star…
You know that I’ll be watching you, I’ll never be too far.
And when the cold winds blow your hair, and mist falls on your face…
Stand and whisper to the wind, “I love you” from our place.

When your time to meet me comes, and things are hard to see…
You’ll feel my hand, and hear my voice, beside you I will be.
Silently we’ll walk along, the paths we used to walk…
And forever in the soft night winds, together we will talk.

© Ron Walker December 1998

This was written for a friend that had just lost his wife. They were an older retired couple, both had been physical therapists. She had suffered a protracted illness. He said towards the end, she was always telling him she worried how he would do when she was gone. After her passing he asked me to write something for them since I knew them both. I wrote this, I told him that it is what she would probably have wanted to say.

Comments always welcome,