I am missing
There once was a me
I knew
But you died and took me
with you.
In place of me, a new
confused thing will do
Strange things like
hoard your every shoe.
The earth you walked,
the dirt you knew
Stained on the bottom
of a boot no one else can have
but you.
But you, not here, left me to hide
those shoes.
Your quirky socks I wear,
Will they walk my feet to you?
The wise old owl of me used to have
the redwood tree of you
A tall and lanky perch
from which to view
The shirking prey, the darkest night, the darting truth.
Tell me, my guru,
What now? What can I do
without the branches of you?
"Stop," you say,
"refusing
to choose
another
muse.
For I left, but I am not gone," you say.
"And I have news for you.
I am more than tree.
I am all colors, spirit-hewed.
Stop denying that same is true for you.
I promise, my owl
Everything you need, you already have
deep, deep, deep inside of you.
Go plant a new tree,
the tree of you.
Please believe me, you would
If you could see you as I do.
Strong as stalwart, as in your youth
Firmly-planted, leaves true blue.
There is no way out of this
You must go through."
But I am blind, wing-bound.
My vision slight, talons eschew.
I cannot be as I was once used to.
For
I am missing,
I am missing,
I am misssing
you.
And
I am missing,
I am missing,
I am missing
me, too.