He dance. They danced.
His song
lives on.
His Joy, his breath, lives on,
lives on.
Angels applaud
as heaven
grows
richer
by his passing.
yet here I stand
I will not regret
the tears that fall
when his voice I hear.
in the Magic Eye of a Storm
he dances.
He dances
in the rhythm of the stars
in Lights, and fire of candles,
and in harmony of grass, leaves shaking.
he strides across the Night Sky,
the wind flutes his Melody,
and this Giant takes his place
amid
the tears
and the laughter,
Proud.
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