Moving On

may we move on

like the sea brushing the shore

in a gentle goodbye

last strips of sunlight

fading

because it knows

it must leave

so the moon may rise

we must move on

like roses wilting in the winter

and growing stronger in the summer

it is our winter my dear

it is the time when sailors

gamble with the night

so they can sail with the sun

what is beauty if not fleeting

and what are goodbyes if not eternal

so while we must wilt

we must also grow