The Necessary Dying

The gospel of goodbye

Nothing gold can stay, they say,
but golden things are worth the pain,
the cherry blossom knows its way,
because it falls, we watch the rain.

If roses never turned to dust,
just hung forever, bright and red,
would we lean close because we must,
and breathe them in before they’re dead?

The shooting star exists to burn,
mere seconds blazing through the night,
we gasp and point and watch it turn,
to ash and see its dying light.

Your hand in mine won’t always rest,
this very moment slips away,
yea before I say what I say best,
so I have to say it today.

The ocean eats at every shore,
stone to sand, new from old,
even mountains, though strong before,
bow to time, that’s why they’re gold.

We are the flame, we’re not the wax,
we are the song, not strings or wood,
we are the wave, the crests and cracks,
we are the silence that’s understood.

So let me love this dying world,
this world that will not wait or stay,
let me love how light is hurled,
spectacularly into grey.

Everything I cherish most,
is busy leaving while I see,
and I am leaving too,
a ghost in progress...

Perfect, because we’re free.

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