I am listening, now. The past is past,
I’m here. I’m sitting beside your bed.
Speak to me now. It’s time at last
To make amends. The past is dead.
I am listening, now. I’m here, my dear.
Your spotted hands are soft as fur.
Speak to me, now. I’ve ears to hear,
They are not so deaf as once they were.
I am listening, now. I’m done with fuss;
Babble of treachery, love or pain,
Speak of yourself, of them, of us—
Speak of the ghosts that fill the rain.
I am listening, now. I left it late,
Later than ever we thought or knew.
Speak to me. Please. Unbar the gate.
Turn back, my dear. I’m here for you.