For when a Man is dead

For when a man is dead
the truth of him fades out
in time, in space.
A disappearing smoke
carries his face,
evaporates his dreams,
but for his lingering heart,
still earthbound here to stay
in aching lives,
within an mournful world,
within a net of time
of water, skies and rain.

Yet heart is lifting
under a throbbing pain,
for time is not enough,
it longs for space
to erase sadness,
tends climbing like a rose,
star flower that outgrows
the last traces of absence.