Walk with me to the ends: A poem 

I have dug wells in the pits of despair 

and combed fields of skies in your thoroughfare 

The dark space of my helipad comes alive 

where the flights of daily cargo of dreams arrive 

In my soul is locked a paradise only I behold 

A valley, a mountain, a universe on the roll 

The pain of love and longing is also ecstatic bliss 

There is no blessing as magnificent as an ethereal promise 

Every pore, every breath, every pulsebeat, I own 

are chapels to a God, known and unknown 

This knowledge of the invisible, sacred speaking fire 

that even life’s blowouts and recessions can’t tire 

I have pictures of you walking with me to the ends 

And each word we shared sprouts orchards of dividends 

That the God of all things had this in mind 

For all the tears, the sweat and the blood left behind 

These heights of eternity my eyes have spied 

when you gave me new life each day that I died