My Radiant, My Beautiful
A Xanadu poem
My Radiant, my Beautiful, my True,
you have placed your healing hands on my head,
you have led me out of the valley of darkness—
and now you are dead.
I cannot see you, my Angel, or feel your touch,
and mostly I think there is no one here:
just me alone, lost on a sea of dreams—
and on my cheek, one tear.
Icon of eternal youth and beauty, haunting
me in the dark shadow of my days,
let me hear you again whisper in my ear,
‘I am with you always.’