Mourn thee not at mine grave for I am gone;
See me in the thun’dring storm’s distant light
Soaring on Peregrine’s wings at red dawn,
Escaping death’s grip from shadows of night.
Where heralds of the four winds steal away
To spirits dancing within heav’ns vaults,
Whence mortality’s grip undressed the day
And celestials engage in zealous waltz.
Dismantle that fortress of thine sadness;
Let sorrow’s dam break forth in pleasured feast,
And heal thy wounds singing with pure gladness
A song of love in north, south, west, and east;
For this new day’s dawning brightens the sky
Knowing this wondrous life could never die.