Frozen Poem by Bill Cantrell

I have been trying to pen a poem for some time,
still waiting to write the first word
A beginning is a delicate time,
asking nothing but to wait your turn

In a net, I have gathered all love poems,
from the first up to the last
From infinity going backwards,
to the staines of our future's looking glass

Peering through this stained glass window,
with each color, rhythm and metaphors changed
What once was viewed as poetic clones,
placed under the light would rearrange

How does one write a love poem,
to a star laid down to rest in peace?
It's light continues throughout the dark,
as my pen awaits its reach

The heavens are holding endless stars,
each one shines its very own light in the dark
Let your poetry shine and warm all who read
It is the spark of inspiration that sets them apart

Though a million light years pass,
beyond the eternal gates of time
I will patiently wait for your return,
through the stained glass window of time

I have been trying to pen a poem since she passed
I guess my pain is mixed with the stain
The concept is there somewhere in the air,
still waiting to find the first word for my pain