You Are Steadfast Poem by Luce Darwin

The sky, clouds, and leaves,
offbeat and too variant in their coloring
yet happen to be pleasing
in some odd and miscellaneous way.
Interpret it as a sign;
Not all dying things are cold;
Death may also be beautiful.
Alas, the rain has soaked through roof
on it's great escapades,
the sprites lingering in the forest,
waiting; I heard murmers, hums,
in the whirs of our winds.
You are steadfast. I know this.
A great bell tower.
Don't be afraid of the men in black suits,
they are only there to rake up the dead,
and you are not, so don't be afraid.
Sound out and be heard!
You will pass through this night.
So long and godspeed.