This I Know
Before her shrine I sadly knelt,
Memories flooding soon,
To feel again what once we felt
When every day was June.
I heard the birds a carol raise,
I felt the sun's warm glow,
The heart revived sweet words of praise
To rehearse all I know.
I know that love is for a few
Whom fate would kindly bless,
I know its joy had made for two,
I know those days when young at heart
We could not drink our fill,
Of love's sweet pain if e'er apart,
Though ours, the morrow still.
I know intense, gut-wrenching pain,
Numbing night's slow-motion;
I know living appears insane
When death dries love's ocean.
I know in doubt those left behind
Must face what lies ahead,
I know despair that saps the mind
Must duty find, instead.
Most of all, it is this I know,
Were life a thousand years,
No single day would I let go,
But thank amid its tears,
The Fates who, for unnumbered days,
Had rare treasure given,
Bestowed, in their unfathomed ways,
Her sweet love from heaven.
--Don Juan de Feu
copyright 1998, The Goober Tree Press, all rights reserved