Let us go on, then, leaving these lilacs unclipped
for we shall return to this place
where the world is fragrant,
this space where your face
drapes my languid soul
like these violet flowers
cover those gray leaves,
where you and I whisper alone low
and I touch your hand
as a gardener regards a blooming bud--
gentle, silent, hopeful.
Take my tears, love, as a bouquet
given by nature for joy.
Extract some medicine from these petals
hanging heavy in spring.
Must we now leave the birds and breeze to rehearse their song together?
Why must we go? Their practice needn’t be closed. It is ours to enjoy.
If we must go, we shall take the percussion with us
for our hearts will never stop beating for the purple vision of the lilacs
left unclipped in God’s room where heaven is eternally fragrant--
and I believe one day
we shall return to stay.
a poem by Troy Cady