for the Love of an Hourglass

The Aftergarden (post-publish poem)

For my Nana

Now look, the bitter teeth of death
Have closed their jaws and left their flower,
A ripened rose grown on the skin
To wilt upon the final hour.
Our eyes will fade in clouded storm
When nothing but the sky they see,
But lasting life cannot be killed
Because the roots live on in me.
Death smiles so kindly, locks us in
To pacts that we cannot untake,
But living has the lions share
Until death's hand we can't but shake.
The final secret you have learned,
It's one whose lightest form is prayer.
Ascend, we will remember you
In the garden we all share
Until we come to meet you there.