If I arise tomorrow,
And forget that your soul
Left this place, a long time ago,
Would the wind stop beating at windows?
They are streaked with rain and pollen clusters, fidgeting bugs and dusty frames,
I don’t think I have a picture of us.
If I arose tomorrow,
If the sunlight lifted in particles,
Glinting upwards at dawn,
Making traces of rain more magical,
Than, maybe, they had any right to be,
(By sparkling joyfully under a cloudless sun)
Would I remember something, fun, about you?
The accordion in the front room, that smelled like heavy curtains,
And polished old wood.
My fathers paintings, old decorations, from places whose names I never understood,
You sang my name, and I danced,
Because no-one had written a song about me before, I never thought they would.
If music and charm, were all the gifts you had to give,
Then I’ll take them gratefully.
I’ll take them gratefully, like rain takes the sunshine and makes it shine,
In a new way, this time.
Like rain takes the sunshine.
Where you sang, I’ll rhyme, and remember that a song never made up for a lifetime.
I bought Jasmine when I heard that you had died.
It seemed right, to tend to some form of life.
It blooms in the night.
You were mostly darkness,
The little light you shone,
Was bright, sweet and young.
I bought Jasmine, when I heard that you had died.