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The buck, free of thorny brier, Found way to the fallen apples. His antlers glistening, A golden crown. Gift of the sunrise to throw Shadow upon hours past. Watchful eyes in the peacock's fan, Spreading her feathers on the rooftop; Clock-hand ticking in reverse. Echo; distant sound of a tree's first And final fall. Too few rings at its core. Like a stargazer, take wing, From rusting cage, first scuttling From mother-bird's distant nest; now Catch flight as a hurried leaf With somewhere to be. To be grassed over & out of sight. Pain & loss like cutting rock. Yet the spirit exhales; Soon, heavy hearts shall lift. Beneath the soil of your skin, Let crystallize a vein of ore. Give this memory & soul His noble rest. I would just like to say that this poem was written in remembrance of someone who recently passed on and I was asked to write something to be read during the service. Although you would have to know the person to really understand if this reflects him well, I wonder if there are any suggestions? I could use the help.