I’ve grown accustomed to your face, to the glimpses and smiles, to the silence in the chatter, to the ways we move as one yet, for each other, create space.
The sea splashes, we turn to hear. It speaks of eternity, oneness, power, humility. We try to comprehend, understand. The message escapes us, yet somehow we live it.
Empty milk jugs, baaing lambs and wild winds become routine, absolutely normal. We remember another place, another time, a dream we must reenter, but not quite yet. Jugs, lambs, winds are our now, so we sit together just to sit together, we walk together just to walk together. We linger, for the time is short, the ending in sight.
Like Dun I, we stand up yet bow low. We hold hands as we let go. Rainbows bridge us into new tomorrows, into colorful beginnings, into the kaleidoscope of life. Waving we say hello, waving we say good-bye. Nothing lingers, yet is without end.
I’m gone, but you’re still with me. I see your eyes in my dreams, I hear your voice in my ear, I feel your heart in my chest. Our time fades in memory, but stays sharp, deep within me.
Forever I will see you, I cannot imagine less, for I’ve grown accustomed…I’ve grown accustomed to your face…