Days

There will be days no one will understand

And months

No one will get it

And years

No one will be there

It’s still your life that is seen

By the stars and nights too long to forget

It goes in the bottle

Of the memory

Into the heart of God

Who paints the sky at sunrise

With your crimson tears

Turning to golden prayers

Broken into psalms of advent

Twinkling with muslin anticipation

Staring into the face of your Father

As a homeless dweller in between

Rose petals