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And Now You’re Gone.

The birds don’t stop chirping
they don’t stop singing so gay…
they don’t stop falling in love…

the bees don’t stop pollenizing
to respect our sudden loss
they don’t mourn with me
or help me fling away
the ashes of my burned up
diminished
organs
insides

Ants don’t stop mating
to appease my suffering
they don’t take a day of mourning
to bereave our history
they don’t

they don’t rush to my side
try and cure me
they don’t change their plans
so to reassure me
that there’s more to look forward to
than love songs, pretty flowers
and child-creating
they don’t

“Why do hearts sing and play…
Making love until the break of day…
Why do they fall in love?…”

Because when we made love
until the break of day
they knew, they did
they stopped, they did
and took notice, they did

because then
even the mountains knew
even the minute grains of rock that crumble down the mountain side every day
whether we climbed or not
they stopped, they did
and when it was the break of day,
they smiled on their flat sides
for Our
deeper-than-souls connection
made the universe ecstatic
and they resumed their rolling-down-the-mountainside occupation

And now you’re gone
So the universe is not ecstatic
but it cannot stop moving
for our broken hearts
because then,
we may mistake it for understanding
or some form of compassion
and we might think
It will be okay

But even knowing I’ll never love again
the wind doesn’t stop touching the leaves
in intimate places
so that they coyly giggle
and whisper to each other
how nice it felt
when your wind touched my leaves
and made my body
whisper to my soul
how unbelievable
how marvelous it felt
to know
We
had made love
until the break of day.

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