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You appear to me
Like rain after a dry spell
Like growth after a hard year
Like life after death
And it had been so long
Yet my eye could discern less beauty
In its object than my memory maintained
So I whispered to myself,
"All is but illusion.
You did well to love him.
It gave you songs to write,
And kept you safe."
And, with a sigh of relief,
I let you go
But you would not go
For you came to me in the air about you
And you walked with me
From the other side of town
And you touched me
With your hands
Behind your back
So I whispered to myself,
"All is but illusion.
You were wise to look closer.
You have lost nothing,
Only exchanged a face for a soul.
Whatever happens now,
You have been constant
And let no one say you never loved."
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