OMS ( / Fayetteville, Arkansas, USA)


For all the loves that I have loved,
Let me no longer mourn, no more regret,
But like the Spring-blown blossoms
And the golden leaves of autumn,
Drift by whatsoever currents
The will of the river takes them
When severed from the trees they fall,
Their will now
To reach the sea.
And let me not
With fingers tensed,
Clutch and claw at banks,
At roots and tender stems
To stay my passing;
But gently, till I cross that wide expanse,
Touch caressing hands, remember at the last,
That I once was here, and loved,
And that I passed.
O Earth, that provides so sweet a bed
At resignations' ebb; life's last farewell,
Grant us peace everlastingly.

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