Tribute to Yeats

“When you are old and gray and full of sleep

and nodding by the fire... ”

I will take the book from your shaky hands

and read

then become the silk-sewn voice from your memory.

I will help you see through your cloudy eyes,

the pureness of heart, the beauty of spirit.

As you nod by the fire,

time turns to ashes,

the past no longer weighing its heavy hand,

as we all must take off the well-worn cloak of guilt.

When the deep shadows line your face

and the midnight hour creeps,

I will have the strength to illuminate a path

through the tunnel of sorrows

long-wept, the self-same sorrows of your changing face.

It was always you, you of the pilgrim soul,

who threw off the diction of destiny to come back for me.

And on the cusp of this amazing darkness,

we ready ourselves for the final ascent

upon amethyst stairs,

heaven's stars steeped in unity,

no one hides there now.

Serenity at last, oh seamless time.

I reach out and there you are.

Weak no more – together we go –

a comet into the cobalt universe.