The Buddhists ask us to be present,

and I am in my own way.

I am present in my sorrow,

As I trace the jagged edges of my soul

Ripped apart at the crossroads,

Where our journeys diverged

Yours no longer leaving footprints,

And mine on all fours

searching for you in the dark

I am present in my gratitude,

for moments now just memories

where I spend a good part of my day

where I spend the good part of my day

Not to slander those less fortunate

but I would have to be,

deaf, dumb and blind,

not to recognize that

I am now without my beloved.

With her I was one

Now I am less than

I am present in my sorrow,

and present in my gratitude

for moments now just memories

where I spend a good part of my day

where I spend the good part of my day.