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