With us,

there has always been

the cross

within all things.

The love. The loss,

and then

how the love returns

like heaven’s spring.

And we know this

just as we know

that the world rages on

but God still breathes, trusting

we will find him

under these red autumn trees

which are full, brilliant,

ripe with the blood

of a life well lived.

And dad, now as I live,

I will continue to be

the sunlight this winter,

the blue sky of your eyes.

For by our kind words,

by the warmth of our hands,

by all of this it is clear

that nothing truly dies.

So, let us just spend the day together.

Here with the bold trees.

The world can rage on

in its war of lies.