When We Close Our Eyes

When we close our eyes,
we knock gently on the door of dream
and forget what we have struggled to secure.
Eyes closed, our soul rises,
as if called forth by our searching words.
Our dream takes us to that single star
which has come so far
and now waits for us.

For we much choose
the moment for our great journey,
when we want to throw off old life
and take on a new spirit,
forgetful of the glory we looked for here.
Wonders live all around our dream,
but our home is not here now.

A single spark
is all we will carry,
all we will need
for others to remember us
and follow our progress
to the radiant star
we have searched for all these years
throughout the troubled skies.

Any moment now,
the weather will change here.
All will change for us.
All will be new.
The waves will begin to roll,
the leaves to trickle from the trees
and from around our shoulders
all the weight will fall away.
© Michael Tarabilda

This poem was read on October 12 at the funeral of Martha Lou Stohlman, an old friend from Princeton, NJ, who died just three weeks before her 102nd birthday, having stated that she did not want to be 102.