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Some Things Are Lost
The pain has begun
to ease a bit with the rise
of the sun shining brighter,
reminding me now
that all our hurts are gathered
and nurtured by those who watch
over them daily.
But some do let them go far
turning to the needs of one
like the companion
whose words do ease the passing
of time and things do get lost
around the letting,
we forget to re-gather
there and the dead seeds are lost,
the open gate locked
as the gardener then peels
away worn-out paint and seals
in the things he wants
to return in the next spring
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