To Face The Storm Poem by Eric Cockrell

i am he who plowed and who swept,
that held your tears in trembling hands.
that carved your voice into the willow,
that whispered to stars in your name.
i am she whose back twas arched,
who brought you from the land unknown.
who suckled your hunger and filled you with awe,
who held your hand on walks of amazement.
and i am the tint and the hue of change,
the anvil and the forge....
that brought you from the shores of webbed feet,
to the ache inside the howl of the moon.
i am the lover that took your longing,
and entered your secret garden...
i am the wind that blew the curtains,
the sweat that glistened on your body.
now i am the urn, the casket, and the flowers,
words spoken in silent mourning...
but whose soul lies in perfect rest,
and whose is left to face the storm?