Existence
It’s
odd, I think, how it came to be.
The
wind is back, it’s rustling leaves,
The
beauty of the Earth displayed
Beneath
high window, now surveyed
By
the Queen of All. She’s very small,
Some
might think, not a queen at all,
But
she knows better, as do I
She
purrs approval, expels a sigh.
You
see, my father passed away
His
spirit resides in Heaven today,
The
things he owned are here, with me.
His
home, his plants, beloved trees,
Still
there but gone, sold to another
He’s
left to be with our sweet mother,
But
possessions overflow their bounds
Within
my home. You see it sounds
Far
better than it looks.
Boxes
of maybe, pictures and books
Now
stacked atop my upper stair;
With
no more space, I put them there.
‘Twas
a wonderful place for a kitty to go.
When
she found that spot, she watched it snow
Trees
bent by the wind, the very same one
That
today moves greenery, dappled in sun...
And
the window is open. Let’s see, did I mention
Surveying
a queendom means constant attention
To
birds, and squirrels, and bees, and such
And
allows little time for else of much.
By
now I’ve forgotten what’s in the stack.
I’m
sure my Dad won’t need it back,
But
a sweet li’l kitty, her world expanded
Fully
approves of where it landed.
So
for now, or forevermore,
In
that same spot those things I’ll store.
Dad
might not approve, but it’s really okay
Earthly
decisions, behind him today
I
can’t say the same, can’t ask what to do
Or
how I should feel that his life is through
Though
he can still see, and truly, just fine.
When
I open my eyes, he sees through mine.
