“Live On, My Love,” I Hear You Say 

Beneath an ancient redwood tree that towered o’er a hill
An open grave with soil scent and barren ground lay still,
An old and tender man there stood, his sorrow rising yet
Leaned o’er the grave with tears out poured, and bitter, bitter wept.

Alas! he cried, Shall I now be the only one that speaks with thee?
Alone and weary in this world, Oh what shall now become of me?
With weary heart I take each step, and tremble as with cold.
I cannot go and cannot stay without you when I’m old!

Oh, my only love! Oh, my only life! Must now be when we part?
Hold there, my love, and soon shall see what yearning Death brings over me.

But though you left, and though you lie here in this cold, hard ground,
I love you still and still will live Alive and Well and Proud,

Do I hear you? Is this your voice come trembling through the ground?
Live on, my love, I hear you say, as if no death may drown,
Eternal love, O Grace divine, Have I a right to fear?
For still, and still, my love lives on, and I for you will live.

Kensi Riordan (HJR)  is a student and has been writing poetry for about ten years. She believes that poetry matters “because it is one of the two best mediums for transmitting thoughts, feelings, ideas, and beliefs. (The other best medium is music!)”