I saw Charon whilst walking back from a smoke, <br />The shining halls were dying - brightly still, <br />The dark was holding night-lights in revoke, <br />Yet souls acknowledged, and pleasantries spoke their will. <br />He drifted by, in collar and crying robe, <br />Not here to nurse or call, I thought him strange; <br />A medium between this fleeting globe <br />And that beyond imagination’s range. <br />So I walked on, returning to the ward <br />Where my father slept, and on the way <br />I heard a newborn screaming new life’s chord. <br />At midnight, was it close or dawn of day? <br />There are greater things at work beyond these plains, <br />A constant force that moves when loss remains.<br /><br />Sean Godley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/charon/
