BROWN PATHS

I stand as the cross is firm

Above your name where flowers

Sway and candles burn,

You are not far from where I am,

Your songs shall linger

Even as the November wind is  cold

Your songs are hot

And there are brown paths ahead I know

But there shall sprout the seeds

That flower on the sturdy stalks.

And your songs shall finger

Even until my name and your are one

Here where flowers sway and candles burn.