The sun & why lilies are at peace
in its passing.
The sea & where it keeps
all of the fallen stars.
The trees & the names
we named them with
for our children to call them by.
Questions like,
would it lead me to a pot of golds, or
would I stand before fields of forsythias
on the chance that I'd follow
where this rainbow ends.
The moths & what draws them into
the flame of the wavering candlelight
as we read verses in fluttering pages
of books we will close for a long while.
The ones we leave behind
for the ones who would also soon go
without us.
The stones by the flower beds
we mark with sorrow & love.
Their names we will hum like aubades
for skylarks to warble on glades
even doves can never reach.
What for do all these we bound ourselves with
in the transcendent wake of time
tell us of the meaning
of life?