The Urn, a Poem

fireplace mantel
Photo by ArtHouse Studio on
Keeping the urn was a mistake.
Tossing the ashes was smart.
The golden creed would brake
The mantle brick apart.

There on the ancient wood,
Where open air should live,
The weight of ages’ blood
Shifts with the urge to forgive.

Too late to say the words,
Too present to rest in peace,
The bond we worked to forge,
Too soon has been released.

We cannot fill the space,
Now that our time is done.
We already lost the race,
Are already half of one.

If I had left you here,
Without direction or desire,
What would I have you do
Once I was set afire?

I’d ask that you live on;
That you’d forgive us both our sins.
That you toss the empty urn,
Let the space fill itself in.

In time, we both will rise
Or fall if that may be.
While either heart survives,
Let life, for living be.


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