Shepherd

As each month passes by,
And the future
Is always the living present -
A part of me,
Finds myself rooted,
To the past.
The sepia toned moments now-
Seemed to be the only life.
Time now,
A mere countdown
On a clock-work precision.
The days left behind,
That bear our twin pair of,
Footprints cemented to the sand-
Seem to stretch like,
An elastic forever.
A warm blanket,
To hold me close-
In the coldest of times.
Etched in stone,
Is your happy smile -
That flowed freely,
And loved so deeply.
You remain the truth,
Of a moral compass-
To guide the nights by.
The shepherd,
To the manger of hopes -
Your natural optimism,
A beacon in all darkness.
Words can never,
Bespeak the essence -
Of your absence now.
Its felt acutely now-
Ever more so,
With every faded day,
That gets struck off the calendar.