There is something I find so beautiful about this poem:

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone"

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me - not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

-Henry Van Dyke

Niall and I have been cleaning out what I call our "shed" (aka storage unit). In the process, I came across many old photos and letters. One such item was a a photo of a plaque bearing this poem, taken in Austin on a visit years ago. I know this piece is about death, but I also think of it as just the way time flows, with people coming in and out of our lives full of the inspiration and wonder of a moment.