David Weaver
gone but not forgotten
‘Footsteps in the sand’
David Weaver ©
Remember walking through the desert of life,
four footsteps cutting deep in the sand.
Far into the distance stretches a lifetime of love,
as we marched boldly on hand in hand.
When only two footsteps were all you could see,
as I strode into the evening light.
Those were the times when I carried you,
as I kissed your sweet lips through the night.
In the earth you can see where I twisted and turned,
whereas steadfast and strong stood you.
These times marked where you had a child,
while I circled around, useless too.
There’s a halt in the steps near the third child,
a cross marks a lonely space.
The mirage lake in the landscape,
as our tears marked her final place.
The footsteps faltered for quite a few miles,
but then they grew stronger with time.
The love of a lost one gives strength in the end,
sad eyes drying up, yours and mine.
Now we are nearing the end of our walk,
the footsteps seem shortened with age.
So kiss me my darling while we have the chance,
before we must turn the last page.
Let my still eager lips brush your lovely face,
let’s turn around and look back.
See how the footsteps now vanish from sight,
as we come to the end of our track?
End
