…hand in hand

Often as I gaze at you, oh how sweetly it hurts
when we are standing close
I long to speak to you of eternity
to say, come walk with me, hand in hand
on misty autumn days
come tread the garden’s moonlit paths
and the troubled road as well
across the heavens and the trackless reaches
adrift in open seas, in abundance and decay
the way it was meant to be
one moment leads to the next
and as above, so below
come walk with me, hand in hand
while the seasons change us both
wandering until the end of days
cast away the heavy hours
and catch the last fires of the day
days will come and ages pass
time will deliver her final kiss
but we will walk
upon these timeless sands into slumber
and through the blue hours in between
into the quiet open land beyond
following the steps of the errant wind
and always hand in hand
© Ann Bagnall
2013