I Should Have Asked All The People I Loved Poem by Sally Sandler

If only I'd asked you what was your favorite
star, or flower, river or tree,
poem, or hymn, or memory,
then I'd have riches to count in the spring …
words to find peace in, songs I could sing.

If only I knew how you lived with disease,
with heartbreak and failure, and loved ones leaving,
with parents passing … your aching, grieving,
how you were buoyed by your faith, your believing …
how like a soldier you kept on living.

If only I'd seen the place you'd be buried,
and understood why you wanted to be.
Now I know that you're nearby a stream,
or behind a church, or in my dream …
or a garden, or beneath an old apple tree.

If I could be certain you'd still feel my love
sure as a star that shines in the dark,
then I'd be ready to live with my heart,
to face any minute or day apart …
to wake like the sun—to walk, to start.