WHEN THEY LEAVE...

UPON A SUMMER WIND

I am standing on the seashore.

A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze

and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength and I stand and watch her

until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud

just where the sea and sky come down to mingle

with each other.

Then someone at my side says: 'There! She's gone.'

Gone where? Gone from my sight that is all.

She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she

was when she left my side,

and just as able to bear her load of living

freight to the place of destination.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her;

and just at the moment when someone at my side says:

'There! She's gone,'

there are others watching her coming,

and voices ready to take up the glad shout

'There she comes!'

when they leave 

upon a summer wind...

we bury their voice 

but not their message...

we bury their body, 

but not the dreams 

of their life.

you are greatly missed...