Passing By Poem by James Ronan

Lie restfully as a blanket of new fallen snow,
Our memory of you is crisp as the morning's chill.

Evenings paint long shadows across our path,
Reminding us of your departure for going home.

As trees sift words from the evening breeze,
They speak softly of your passing by.

They tell us your soul is in God's hands,
As mountains embrace a cold-water stream.

Profoundly you touched our hearts and minds,
Like senses stirred by morning's first light.

Your spirit sores like Black Eagle wings,
Touching crags that cradle newborn life.

As wild flowers announce that spring is here,
They remind us that victory is yours.