It is
not
what
we
do
It is
not
what
we
have
It is
not
where
we
go
It is
only
who
we
touch
After all
in the
end
all of
us
live
on
only
in the
memories
of
others’
immortality
It is
not
what
we
do
It is
not
what
we
have
It is
not
where
we
go
It is
only
who
we
touch
After all
in the
end
all of
us
live
on
only
in the
memories
of
others’
immortality
Listening
wind in
willows
rain on
glass
gurgles in
creek
sand under
foot
birds in
flight
leaves on
ground
silence in
heavens
breathing in
sleep
laughter of
children
tears of
longing
sobs of
breaking
crackles of
warmth
sighs of
comfort
giggles of
passions
these
many
things
are
my
life
sounds
Time
thinking
isolated
pondering
wondering
contemplation
absent
muses
words
lacking
hunger or
thirst
bland and
tasteless
ceasing
imagery
adrift
one
man
in a
one
man
boat
Walking
out
unkept
ruffled
hair
wrinkled
mismatched
clothes
unconscious
adrift
untethered
dirigible
unshaven
amiss
you
took
your
eyes
my
only
reflection
with
you
you
were
my
only
mirror
of
me
Unlatching
cage
fluttering
freedom
wings
spread
you
soared
airborne
circling
you
returned
once
shooing
away
insisting
courage
forcing
liberty
bird
tears
then
flights
of
angelic
heaven
to
your
future
you
went