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Like the Ground Under Your Feet

I’ll be with you – even when
you don’t think of me
or the scent of me
seems to be fading.
You can’t get rid of me
any more than the night sky
or the ground under your feet.
You’ll be coming along nicely,
enjoying a glass of wine or two,
laughing a hearty, merry laugh,
your friends persuaded you’re moving on,
just as you’ve embraced moving on –
while you’re moving within me, as a star
moves within space, or a fish within water,
unaware it is water.
They say too much of me – or me prolonged
for years and years moves against
life, unhealthy, unwise, the past
smothering the present. They misunderstand.
I, your grief, will be with always.
You will know the depths of me
and in the knowing come to be
fit for the heights and delights
of the stars, the beauty of the world
in its intensity revealed to you.
Oh what passion is born from me,
what wealth born in a human soul!

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