Imagine This

Ode to Joy

 i know what you're thinking/ i'm not sure either/ it's not an ode to joy when i can't see you anymore. i know that you aren't here/ but everytime i think of angels singing the ode to joy and the color pink/ you spring to my mind. i hear your ta-da's/ and i hear your oh my's/ and i can't seem to find you when the chair is empty. i recently saw a part of your life/ the way you would live it so long ago. it's impossible to think of you in any other way/ than my grandma who supported us. the grandma who pretended to be shocked when i asked for food. i can't think of you without thinking of pink sweaters/ of lambert's hot throwed rolls/ and your cute inability to catching them the first time. i can't think of a play without seeing you sing with your choir/ the video of bell ringers without seeing you play. i can't think of any flowers without seeing you ask/ momma for the names/ or if the garden was planted. i can't think of sassy without thinking of you/ with your finger shaking as you scolded your crew. i can't think of christmas without seeing your tree/ with your collection of ornaments a thousand and three. i can't think of nativity without seeing your house/ all decked out with a dozen Jesus's, manger in the Crouse house. i can't miss you enough to bring you back here to us/ and i don't think i would draw you back from Heaven even if it feels like a must. i miss you/ and love you, miss Barbara Jean/ just keep a sharp eye on us/ like you usually did. rest in heaven/ your work here is done. this isn't goodbye/ only see you in a lifetime soon.