Each Seed That Grows
B. B. Wright
In Memory of Allan “Bush” Armour
November 14,1963 – December 13, 2014
Each sunrise and sunset brings me closer to my end.
Will I be remembered after I am dead?
Will my notes played upon my strings still resonate with you?
Each day that I awoke I did my best to use the gifts I have within.
When I failed, I accepted, learned and moved ahead;
I understand that life is life
And how I meet it is what makes the difference.
Still, life seems so unjust in how it’s meted out.
The warm brush of your kiss against my cheek,
and your gentle touch, arms me for what lies ahead.
When lost and sick at heart for what I’ve done and not done
Your eyes uplift me.
Once, spring’s rebirth led me into the sweet warmth of summer’s months.
Now, autumn leaves and winter winds have arrived too quickly.
I have barely left a footprint if one at all.
As I hear the loving voices near me,
distant though they seem,
I know that as memories are passed forward and live,
then, so do I.
I am weary my love.
The strength you’ve given me I must now relinquish.
And, though it is not my choice to do so,
it is time for me to go.
That from the beginning through the end of each year
and as long as memories last and grow,
I am part of you and part of each seed that grows.