Poem by WyldGrace posted with permission
A Glass Half-full Still Quenches
Toast to a Good Ghost
Our friends speak of ‘how much you’ve lost’, how nearly invisible you’ve become; and it’s true, I grieve too, for what is gone.
Yet upon reflection I am struck more deeply by the unsought for gains, am humbled by what has been won.
For even though your voice recedes into strides silent and long, still I seek to walk at your side, to borrow that heart that yet beats so true and strong.
Your days feel lost but your compass is sound; your patient ears, absorb others fears, your ready laughter grants them ground.
It’s mostly the memories—swollen dreams, conquering scenes
that never were cast—
those can rob my spirit, then
I repent my wanderlust,
wish for a different past
Yet when I return to you in this present place, and look for signs in your seeking face
I can’t but admire the sagely presence you’ve become. Then I count the blessings you’ve brought to life, and feel humbled by how much has been won.
So let us tip up our glasses with whatever is left and toast to a life who brought forth our best!
Though the glorious flame may have dimmed low, there is great heat neath the ashes, where in your warm hearth red embers yet glow