Here we have an end and a beginning,
A stop-time moment memory will frame,
Placed beside a christening or wedding,
Pieces of a whole one seeks in vain.
Yes, here we have a mind that looks both ways,
Glad to leave and sorry to be leaving,
Recognizing these were precious days,
A joyful liberation laced with grieving.
Does one ever listen to one's music
Underneath one's own incessant voice,
A quiet strain, though one ought never lose it,
That moves one to the fortune of one's choice?
In every moment there's a melody
One plays to mirror one's reality,
Needing both to mourn and to rejoice.